Rites of Passage
by Drowningblonde
Summary: A story about Lotor's first captured Alliance ship. Told from his pov. Language warning, sex,violence and an unhealthy amount of the Crown Prince's famous ego.
1. Chapter 1

**I would like to take this opportunity to say that I do not own Voltron or any of the characters featured in it. They belong to the lucky folks at WEP and Devil's Due comics. All other characters are mine, however, as they are figments of my twisted imagination.**

As requested, I did a minor edit on the radio pro-words to make them more sound more Drule-like. I hope that this enhances the dialogue and provides the reader with a more believable world.

**Rites of Passage**

They say you always remember your first time. That you will never experience that same feeling again with another. I certainly remember my first time. Her name was the GA-HMS Highlander. She was a Remington- Class carrier. She was an Alliance warship, not a pirate's skiff or a pathetic cargo vessel. And she was my first kill.

**Chapter 1**

I am flouting protocol by being here. I should be directing the attack from the safety of the bridge but regulations mean little to me right now. Instead, I am standing in the catwalk, waiting for my four man demolition crew to pop the old bitch's hatch. I stare intensely at the graying chipped paint of the ship's hull as if by doing so it will open faster. To say I am breathless with anticipation would be an immense understatement. I shift from one foot to the other, the magnetized soles of my boots making pinging sounds on the thin metal floor.

"Sir, we're almost there. Estimated seven minutes to breach." The crew chief, as if sensing my irritation, updates me, as I watch them work with lazon torches to pry her open.

"No worries…she's not going anywhere." I say smugly and I feel an irrepressible smile flicker across my face. She really isn't going anywhere. Not under her own power, that is. She is technically adrift and only the tractor beams from my cruiser hold her at rest. I still can't believe how easily I took her down. A carrier! Out manned and out gunned, there should have been no way my crew and cruiser could have taken her! But I did.

The orange red glow of molten metal rings the charred opening as the torches keep burning through with a hissing sound. I watch as droplets of it spill down forming perfect spheres in the reduced gravity of the catwalk before falling in slow motion to the floor. The bright red spots lay there like blood from a wound.

I take a deep breath, trying to stem my frustration. I have deployed two additional boarding teams aft and starboard. This is my ship. My kill. I want to be the first to come aboard her and claim my prize. And if these fuck-sticks don't hurry up, I'm going to be late for my own party, I think sourly.

"Bridge to Firesword Actual. We have visual on skeet. Please advise. Over." My first officer says over the comm in my ear. He forwards it to me and I look up to my left to see the bridge's main screen in miniature on the inside of my visor. I watch as four escape pods race to a jump port. I consider giving the order to fire on them but reconsider when I think about the value of that human cargo. I make a split second decision. It is brazen and reckless, just like attacking the carrier was. But instinctively I know it's the right action.

"Check fire on the skeet. Kill the jump port. Over." I order.

"Verify fire call. Over."

"Check fire on the skeet. Kill the jump port. Over." I repeat the order more forcefully.

"Kill the jump port?"

"Affirmative."

"Understood. Will comply."

My second looks over at me questioningly. I glare back at him. He's senior enlisted and he has proven invaluable during this, my first float as a commander. But I will not have my orders second guessed by anyone.

I watch as one of the pods makes it to the port and disappears in a flash. "Nngh!" I growl in anger.

This is taking far too long and I hear my men behind me shuffle restlessly. They are as eager as I am to make the Alliance taste the bile of defeat. I begin to worry that the enemy has had too much time to set up a defense. I begin to strategize on what countermeasures they will use. There's certainly a squad or two waiting on us on the other side. They will be positioned just outside the airlock, behind the blast doors in a stagger pattern. Humans are such creatures of habit. They'll probably use grenades first. As soon as we crack open the hatch they will launch them in and try to blow the catwalk and us with it into free fall in open space. That would really ruin my day.

But fortunately, I have prepared for that eventuality. PBFS. Portable Blast Force Shielding. The same thing we use to protect our ships from laser fire, projectile ordinance and bits of space debris. Except smaller and portable. It also has the added benefit of reflecting the concussion wave and any incendiary back in the direction it came. Not a big deal in the open, but it should prove to be very dramatic in within the narrow confines of the airlock. I ponder the results of a grenade attack and I actually hope that they hit us with everything they've got.

"Firesword Actual , HammerHand is at ready. Set on hot. Over." The team leader on the starboard side informs me.

"Understood. Stay ready. " I reply. Then suddenly I see a bright flash and a ring burst on my visual and I know the jump gate has been destroyed. Even if they make it to the pods, they have nowhere to go. I laugh to myself. This is going flawlessly-

" Bridge to Firesword Actual, We've got fleas! Over." It's my first officer again. Now what? I check my visual and I see three F-37 fighters bearing down on my vessel in a V formation. Immediately I think that they are going to come straight for the catwalks. Then to my relief, I see the fighter squadron that I initially deployed to provide cover for us vector to intercept. The Alliance pilots are obviously on a suicide mission and if they want to die I will certainly oblige them. Now this is my idea of a win-win situation.

" Firesword Actual to bridge. Flight crews to their stations. Execute kill." I order. I watch as moments later as another squadron of six fly out to smash these annoying pests into ballast. Then two of mine are shot down immediately as they exit the hanger. There were four Alliance fighters! One had been hiding under the Alliance vessel waiting in ambush.

"Fuck!" I curse loudly. I regret it immediately and recover my bearing as my second looks over at me again as do several of my soldiers.

"OneKill Six to Firesword Actual. We are at ready." The other team checks in.

"Stand ready. Over." I reply. They're waiting on us and I'm pissed. But I still will not order them to board without me. She's mine and I'm going first.

"OneKill is standing ready."

I check my visual again and one of my fighters scores a kill and another Alliance fighter is being chased. I watch as the pilot doubles back around and tries to shake them. Quite a talented flier…too bad he's on the losing side. Then a shudder courses down the catwalk and my visual of the bridge screen goes blank. I suddenly feel very vulnerable in the long fragile tube that holds me suspended in open space.

"Firesword Actual to bridge. What's going on over there? Over." I ask trying not to let my emotions show. I'm getting nervous that I may have bitten off more than I can chew. But I can never let anyone see that. Ever.

"We've taken a direct hit, Sir! Ship to ship collide. It's a friendly! One of our own birds, Sir. Over."

" Ngh! Damage report. Over."

"Fires on the third and fourth decks, Sir. Initiating containment procedures. Shielding and propulsion are unaffected but communications reports a bug. Over."

"Understood. Where's my visual? Over."

" Working on restoring visual now, Sir."

"Understood. Out."

It's as good as bad news can be. Third and fourth are berthing sections, which would be empty of crew right now. The damage is mostly cosmetic. But I realize now that I may have to return to the bridge. This bitch might be adrift but she is far from conquered. It is possible that I may not be the first to board my prize and I feel deeply disappointed at the thought. Such are the pitfalls of command…I will sorely miss the thrill of charging into battle and the chance to kill the enemy with my own hands.

"How long until we're in?" I ask my demolition crew chief calmly. My tone reflects none of the anger I'm feeling.

" The PFBS is in place and Just have to get through this last set of bolts, Sir, and set the charges." He answers attaching a fuse to EMT cap. I watch as the second to last bolt melts through and try not to scream at their slowness.

My visor flickers as my visual is restored and the image I see startles me. It's an Alliance pilot! They have the most annoying habit of hacking into our shipboard comm channels.

"Hey motherfuckers! Did you like that? You want some more?" A female voice shouts a mixture of Terran obscenities and Trade. I shake my head in irritation and switch channels.

"Firesword Actual to bridge. Send out another fighter squadron and shut them down. " I order casually.

"Sir, we're ready to set the charges." The crewman says.

Finally!

"Firesword is in position. Everybody ready to get some?" I'm excited and I completely abandon any attempt at comm etiquette. I can tell they are as well by their response.

"Yes, Sir!" HammerHand replies.

"Will. Comply." chimes in OneKill.

I smile at their enthusiasm.

"Battle formation! " I order all teams. With me in the lead we form two lines six deep and assume a position about ten feet from the entrance of the cat walk. We activate life support systems and ready our weapons.

"Fire in the hole!" Yells the crew chief and detonates the charges. There's a small flash as the explosion jolts the cut out piece of the hull away and it falls backward into the catwalk. There is an immediate eruption of fire as a volley of grenades impact the PFBS shields. I stand impassively as a plume of fire seems to come swirling into the catwalk. It is an optical illusion created by the shield as it absorbs then repels the energy of the blast, but still some of my men flinch. I make a mental note of who the cowards are.

"Advance! All teams go! You are cleared hot. Repeat. You are cleared hot!" I yell into my comm as we charge in through the acrid smoke and twisted molten metal.

My comm is interrupted by the Alliance pilot once more. I still have visual and I see her bearing down on our catwalk with four of mine behind her firing wildly. She's going to fire on it and suck us all into space.

"Oh, no you fucking don't! If I'm gonna die I'm takin' your fucking blue asses with me!" She snarls.

"Seal off the walk! Seal off the walk!" I yell franticly to my crew chief as we rush straight into Alliance laser fire.

I return fire on them and I see my crew chief go down as he tries to close off the walk remotely.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I curse. We are in a narrow corridor that extends in front and behind us and we are taking heavy fire from both sides. My men are holding ground but we are not advancing away from the entrance just yet as it is our only source of cover. There is still too much smoke for us to see where our targets are and we can't use our infrared because of the latent heat from the grenades. We are pinned down. Then my second throws a grenade taking out those that are in front. We press our advantage and gain ground into the airlock and some cover. I can hear in my comm that the other squads are faring only slightly better. The Alliance is putting up more of fight than I expected.

I'm tucked against the bulkhead trying to range my targets by the direction of their fire, when it occurs to me, in those odd, still moments that you only experience during live combat, that I was indeed the first to step aboard my ship. I feel a sudden elation and it fuels my bloodlust. I'm in the zone now and instinct takes over. I can practically smell where they are hiding. I make three kills in rapid succession and there is a significant reduction in enemy fire.

"Seal off that fucking walk now!" I order again to the remaining members of the demo crew. Then I realize I am too late. I see in my visual that the Alliance pilot is coming back around, this time with only three of mine chasing her and I get a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. There is no way I will be defeated on my first attempt at conquest! I think of my father and cringe. I don't think even death would be a refuge from his scorn.

I look behind me and I see that the second demo crewman is trying to close the walk but it won't seal because the grenade attack has damaged the surrounding structure. I look down to my left where my crew chief has fallen and I see the PBFS control by his leg. I lunge for it and land on my stomach just as there is a horrible roaring sound. The pilot has hit her mark finally. The catwalk is collapsing and the atmosphere and everything else in corridor is being vacuumed out into the killing void of space.

I feel myself being dragged on the ground toward the hole in the hull and I desperately try to activate the shield but nothing is happening. I am being pelted with random objects. I see an Alliance soldier slide screaming past me. I see his fingers clutching the jagged edges of the opening then disappear.

I clutch at anything and nothing with my free hand. The floor, the walls, but I am still dragged relentlessly toward the abyss. Then, for reasons known only to the Gods, the shield boots up and seals the hole. The chaos stops as suddenly as it started.

I find myself pressed halfway against the opening with the shield buzzing at my back. There is an Alliance soldier next to me and we are face to face. Both of us have just escaped an agonizing death by a hair's breath. Our eyes meet for a moment of shared relief and as he collects himself I draw my sidearm and shoot him.

"Damn, Sir. You're one mean son of bitch." says my second with a crooked grin as he makes his way over to me and hauls me to my feet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron or any of the characters featured in it. Nope. Not one of 'em. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due comics. All original characters are mine and I don't make any money from this story.**

**Chapter 2**

Once on my feet I immediately assess our situation. The air is clear of smoke now and it appears we are alone in the corridor except for the Alliance soldier I have killed. I know that we have other casualties in addition to my demo chief because we are at least three fewer in number.

"Give me a head count! Who's still here?" I ask my second. He begins the roster and I check on my other teams.

"OneKill this is Firesword Actual. I need a sit-rep. Over." I ask.

There is no immediate answer. I call my other team.

"HammerHand this is Firesword Actual I need a sit-rep. Over."

"Wait." Is their terse reply. It is not the one I wanted and I know that they must be under heavy fire. I call my bridge and order reinforcements to both teams. And a med-vac unit.

"OneKill, OneKill this is Firesword. Acknowledge. Over" I try again. Nothing. I look at the PFBS and there is a dim glowing horizontal line scrolling down it. It will not hold for much longer.

"We need to get out of here!" I say to no one in particular.

"I'm on it, Sir!" It's my NSOE. Network Security Override Expert. This is just a very polite term for a hacker. He's already got a card in the control panel of the door and is working on the code. I don't want to use my demo crew on this because if the shield fails before we're out of this section I need that blast door to close behind us or we'll join the lost members of my team in free fall.

"We lost Sal'jeen , Mei'er, and Jaen. Si'ila's been hit. He says he's fine but Meds says he's twitchy." Twitchy is when you are hit with so many laser blasts at once that your body armor cannot absorb any more energy and the excess re-circulates through your nervous system. It's like a 50,000 volt shock each time you're hit. I am about to respond when my ominously silent comm blows up with noise in my ear as both teams check in almost simultaneously.

"Firesword Actual this is HammerHand Six . We are clear. We are clear."

"Firesword Actual this is OneKill Five. This is OneKill Five. Our Six is down. We are taking heavy fire."

It's all happening so fast and although I know exactly what to do I feel that I cannot issue orders quickly enough. I call up the schematics of the Alliance vessel and a three dimensional image of the ship structure appears on my visor. I can see where my teams are by their locators. OneKill has gained significant ground but is now being pinned down by the hangers where the ship's crew has gathered to evacuate. The Alliance knows now they have nowhere to go and is going to make a last stand. They have us out manned in numbers only. At least half of an Alliance crew is combat support with a questionable ability to load and fire a blaster-rifle. To us it is a joke. We are War fighters. That is our only job. The fact that my 16 man team has held out against that cluster fuck is proof of this. There must be at least a hundred Alliance troops against them. I am proud. And determined that they will get to enjoy this victory with me.

"This is FireSword Actual. Acknowledged. Retreat and take cover. Over"

"Authenticate."

"_Kesh'u moi. Kesh'u moi_." I reply with a code word that no human would ever use. The team knows the Alliance's tendency to hack into our comms and issue false orders. They don't trust my command and they want to confirm that I have given it.

"Correct. Will comply. Out."

Just then the PFBS behind me gives a threatening crackle. Before I can even ask my NSOE answers.

"I'm transferring now, Sir! We're out of here in four, three, two….Open!" he shouts. He is worth his weight in gold.

"Well done! Yoi! Well done." I say. I will be sure to remember his name when I write up my report.

"Move out! Engage at will." I order them. The faster we get away from this suck hole the better. I watch as they charge off down the hall. Si'ila at the end his gait jerky as his overwhelmed nervous system cannot convince his legs to work together. I take up the rear this time. I am an officer and we are the first in and the last out. I jog up next to him as we approach the entrance.

"Si'ila you got the tingles?" I ask joking a little with the injured man. He turns to look at me as we cross through the door.

" Ngh, I'm fine, Sir! I've had hangovers worse than—Get down!" He shouts and I feel his hand on my head pushing me. He flies backward and I see the Alliance soldier I thought was dead on his knees with a blaster rifle. I raise my weapon to fire back but just then the shield fails and the last thing I see is his sorry ass being sucked into space as the blast door slams shut.

I look down at Si'ila. He is trembling violently and the Meds rushes over and rips off his visor and chest plate. He tubes him and slaps suckers on his chest near his collar bones attempting to stabilize the coronary arrhythmia. Without an immediate evac unit he will not survive. Without the catwalk there will be no evac. He is dying needlessly and it wrenches at me. My body armor would have shielded me. I was in no danger. In spite of that he took the shot meant for his commander. I have lost three others besides him but I can't think about that now because I must take this ship and bring the rest us to glory. I grab his hand and feel the shuddering stop. I have lost men before. I have even knowingly ordered some to their deaths. But this one- this one, it will stay with me.

I make the decision to move out. We stay in formation and begin the long process of manually climbing the decks to the bridge. We will come back for our fallen after the enemy is prostrate at my feet. There is no better way to honor the dead than with victory.

The ship is surprisingly quiet and we do not encounter any more resistance from Alliance infantry. Something doesn't feel right about this but I don't know what it is. Then my first officer calls me.

" Bridge to Firesword Actual we have visual on skeet. Advise. Over."

"Ngh?" I growl under my breath. More skeet? What the—then it occurs to me. They see that I have held my fire on the escape pods. Perhaps the captain of this ship seeks to save the lives of his non combat crew members by removing them from the ship? It has been our policy in the past to destroy the vessel leaving those prisoners we cannot carry with us to escape if they can. My cruiser is small compared to this behemoth. Even if I ordered all hands out of their berths and used all common areas I still could not cram of half the Alliance crew onto my ship. But, I have a plan that will allow for that. This captain is applying outdated rules to a game that I am not playing.

"Check Fire on skeet. Maintain visual. Over." I order.

"Will comply. Over."

"Seven Cloud to Firesword Actual. We are aboard. Over." The first of my reinforcements calls me.

"Understood. Execute to follow. Stand ready." I say.

"Seven Cloud at ready."

"OneKill. OneKill. This is FireSword Actual. Where are you? Over." I ask. It has been too long since I heard from them.

"This is OneKill Four to Firesword Actual. We are clear in back. We are clear in back. Have casualties that need immediate evac. Over." is the reply. Finally. They have retreated safely but lost at least one more.

"Acknowledged. OneKill Four. Sending reinforcements and evac. Stand by. Out."

I order Seven Cloud to link up with OneKill and check the status of my second reinforcement team. They are almost aboard. There has been some problem with the last remaining Alliance pilot. She has finally been hit and is tumbling powerless into space. I am glad. It is justice that she suffers the death that she had chosen for me. There is no worse fate for a pilot than to face the freezing emptiness alone left only with the sum of their own tactical errors to keep them company. Or is there? I think of the foul mouthed creature who tried to steal both my dignity and my destiny. No! I will not allow her to die with any honor.

"Firesword Actual to Bridge. Send a recovery team for her. I want her alive if possible. Over." I order with narrowed eyes.

There is a pause before my first officer answers. "Understood. Will comply." I think I detect a note of sinister agreement in his tone.

"Blacksky Six to Firesword Actual. We are aboard. Advise. Over." The second reinforcement team arrives and I order them to sync up with HammerHand and start to do a sweep of the ship. Since our initial boarding there has been no report of enemy contact except from OneKill's position at the hangers. The situation disturbs me greatly. It is as if they are just abandoning ship with barely a fight. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

"Bridge to Firesword Actual. We have more skeet. They are dumping skeet, Sir! Over."

"Repeat last. Over." I ask not thinking I heard the transmission clearly.

"We have more skeet. They are dumping skeet. Over." he replies.

"Firesword Actual to bridge. How many? Over."

"Twelve plus, Sir."

I shake my head in disbelief as I calculate the numbers. Each pod hold approximately 120 crew. The carrier holds 25 pods which will be able to evac her entire crew plus any civilians or prisoners aboard. They have already dropped nine. Plus the twelve….they are either abandoning ship en masse or this is a trap.

"Use the _seihu_ to scan for biologics. Give me numbers. Over." I say. If they think to trick me by putting a few aboard each pod they will be mistaken. It's an old trick. Make us think the ship is abandoned then have fire teams lying in ambush. Nice try. Our scanners can determine the number of personnel by quantifying the bio-electric fields that are generated by all living creatures. I will know shortly if that is what my adversary has planned.

I wait for my first officer's report. It will take a few moments, but we are still climbing decks. We have seven more to go and for once since I have come aboard I have the time to wait.

"Bridge to Firesword Actual. Ratio between 2000 and 2280 bodies on board. Over."

"Understood. Out." I answer. So they have abandoned the ship! There must be nothing but a skeleton crew left if that! But why? It is still very odd to me.

I think for a moment about my two under-manned teams and consider if I should order the rest of my teams to come aboard. It is time for the Highlander to come under my command. She will be mine. I call in the order.

We are nearly to the bridge and I order my men to use caution. If there are Alliance troops left, lying in wait, they will be here, protecting the nerve center of the Highlander. We approach stealthily, all of us expecting a volley of laser at any moment from every corner or shadow. But there is nothing. No one. Not a sound except for the nearly inaudible hum of the ship's air circulators. The ship appears empty and I have no good feelings about this at all.

"HammerHand to Firesword Actual. We are clear. No contact. Over." I get the update and it does not reassure me.

"Acknowledged. HammerHand. Assemble a scout team to propulsions. Send your NSOE and a demo. Out." I reply. This is all very strange.

We arrive at the bridge. My NSOE starts to override the door, and then turns to me and says. "It's unlocked." He frowns and looks puzzled. I order him to back away. This is undoubtedly a trap. I am about to tell my demo crew to scan for explosives when the door slides open. It startles me and it takes all my self control not to hit the deck. The bridge appears deserted as well. Still I brace and point my weapon all around the room looking for the ambush I am sure I will find. My second joins me at the entrance doing the same. The bridge looks deserted.

Suddenly the command chair swivels slowly around and seated calmly in it is the Highlander's captain.

"Took you long enough." She says in a clipped tone.

**Glossary: **

Kesh'u moi: regional slang. Pejorative for female genitalia. Literal translation is good valley. Has a significant contextual usage.

Seihu: nick-name for a shipboard scanner. Also a blind shark like creature that hunts by sensing the bio-electricity of its prey.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Chapter 3**

For a moment I ignore the captain. I order my demo crew to run a scan of the room to check for explosives before we enter.

"It's clear. I'm alone and unarmed." She seems almost amused. I wouldn't believe her if I could read her mind.

"All clear." The demo says. My second and I enter the room with our weapons drawn and pointed at the captain. The others come in behind me the same way and do a manual sweep of the bridge looking for any surprises.

As I approach I take a good look at the captain. She is a very petite, small boned woman with dark hair. I'm confused because at first I think she is a child. It is sometimes hard for us to gage the age of humans because of their smaller physical size and lack of facial ridging. Except for the very old, most appear highly neotenous to our eyes. As I get closer I see that she is not young at all. She has piercing grey blue eyes and the strong well defined bone structure and high cheek bones of women who carry their age well. But her skin is lined around her eyes and forehead and her dark hair is threaded with grey and has shocks of white at both temples. Her face is set like a stone from the rigors of command, but I am sure that she is still lovely when she smiles.

As my second and I draw near her with our weapons drawn and pointed I begin to feel a bit ridiculous. I am in full body armor and armed with a blaster-rifle, two side arms and my lazon sword and I'm tip-toeing up to an old woman seated primly in a chair. My chagrin is made worse by the nonchalance with which she regards us. She begins to stand up to give formal greeting and my entire team swings around and takes aim at her. I groan inwardly. This _is_ ridiculous!

"I see my reputation precedes me." She says glibly as she takes her feet, her eyes sparkle with something akin to satisfaction. She is even smaller than I thought. The top of her head barely reaches the middle of my chest. I am suddenly very claustrophobic in my helmet and embarrassed by my caution. I stand down my weapon snap up my visor and pull off my headgear. The filtered cool air of the bridge smells clean and feels refreshing on my perspiring face.

"Sir?" my second cautions. I silence him with a look. I am sure that I'm in no physical danger from the little old lady. Even if she does leap up on a chair and punch me in the nose.

"You are…young." She eyes me with the evaluative stare of a senior officer and I become acutely aware of my disheveled braid and the pieces of hair plastered to my forehead with sweat.

"And you are not." I retort defensively. She arches an eyebrow in annoyance. Women are the same everywhere I note.

"And who are you? To whom do I have the honor of surrendering to?" She asks.

"I am Commander Lotor Sincline of the Supremacy's Fourth Fleet, Crown Prince of Korrinoth." I answer her proudly.

"Never heard of you." She says frankly. Her candor is unexpected for someone in her situation. She is feisty and betrays no hint of fear at the danger we present to her person. I find a grudging measure of respect for her.

"You will surrender this vessel, the GA-HMS Highlander and all her crew and cargo to the Supremacy or suffer complete annihilation." I say in my most commanding voice.

"Of course, of course….I don't want to be completely annihilated." She mocks me a little and then clears her throat and comes to attention.

"I, Captain Cynthia McAllister of the British Royal Navy of Earth in service to the Galaxy Alliance, do surrender the ship GA-HMS Highlander, all her crew and cargo to Commander Sincline of the Drule Supremacy's Fourth Fleet, Crown Prince of Korrinoth." She concludes and presents me with her officer's sword.

I reach out and take the sword from her hands and we bow to each other slightly.

"You have the bridge, Commander Sincline." She says honoring the tradition of a senior officer turning over command to a junior. It is so easy that it is almost anti-climactic. I don't know what to feel. Then it begins to sink in…I have won! I have taken the ship…The Highlander is mine…her captain has surrendered…to me! I want to jump in the air and shout in triumph!

I order two of my men to take her into custody and bring her aboard my ship. I watch as they snap the restraints on her wrists with a click. Her expression is guarded but I swear it is as triumphant as mine. For a split second my feeling of unease returns. She executes a flawless about face and they escort her off the bridge.

I walk over to the command chair and stroke my hand across the back of it and along the neck rest and sit down. So this is how it feels, I think. My first. It is thrilling, satisfying and wonderful. I already want more.

The chair is small for me and a little uncomfortable but I don't mind. I remove the comm from my ear now that the grunt portion of the mission is over. I look over at my second with a smile twitching my lips and say "First Sergeant Gar'ein call all hands and hail the bridge of the _Rihan Annsu._"

A moment later I see my First Officer on the screen and his face registers his initial astonishment at seeing my face on his visual.

"This is Commander Sincline from the bridge of the Highlander. She is ours." I say and an enormous grin splits my face. "Her commander, Captain McAllister, is in custody. Make ready to take her aboard."

"Yes, Sir." He replies smiling as well. "Uh, Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Congratulations, Sir!" He compliments me and braces at attention and crosses his fist across his chest in salute.

"Noted. Sincline, Out." I terminate the transmission for now. I have to get the Highlander back online. My work to bring this prize home to the Supremacy has only just begun.

"Can you get into the system?" I ask my NSOE. Undoubtedly the ship's computers have had the drives wiped clean and locked down. If there is a way to retrieve the information, Yoi will know it.

"Absolutely, Sir," he says and unzips his field pack and pulls out the tools of his trade and gets down to business. I can tell by the look on his face he lives for this work.

"Propulsion to Bridge." The crew assembled from Black Sky and HammerHand hails.

"This is Commander Sincline. Go ahead." I respond.

"Uh, Sir…we're trying to get the auxiliaries back up but there's something draining all the juice to life support."

"Get your NSOE to trace it and reroute it." Why are they bothering me with this? It's basic procedure.

"Yes, Sir. We tried that and it requires an executive over-ride code." They reply.

That's odd. And aggravating since my NSOE is not done hacking into the system. I look at the officer's sword that McAllister gave me. She still has her card with all of the command over-ride codes. In my excitement I forgot to take it from her. I recall her escort and order her returned to the bridge.

"Stand Ready. Execute to follow. " I say.

"Yoi, did you hear that?" I ask my NSOE.

"Yes, Sir. Uh, I'm noticing something here too. The systems are running slow, like the tubes are cooking or something. Power is being diverted from the coolers and they're starting to overheat." He says without his fingers missing a keystroke.

"Where to?" I ask. I remember the secret look on McAllister's face when she surrendered.

"Life support. Looks like to the g-cylinder. Nnhg!" he says and finishes with a curse as something in the system frustrates him.

The sinking feeling in my stomach returns. Propulsion and cooling both the jump drive coils and the massive computer network systems are the most energy hungry of any shipboard mechanisms. There is no reason to send power to the g-cylinder. A power surge could destabilize it and collapse the containment field. I call back to propulsion.

"Bridge to propulsion. Check the jump drive coils. Out."

"Yes, Sir."

"Uh, Sir?" Yoi calls me.

"Nhg?" I grunt back.

"Sir, it's, uh, it's all going to life support. Definitely the g-cylinder. We got a problem."

Just then there is a something like a low pressure wave that washes through the ship. I feel heavier. Clumsier. Like I do when I come off a long float and step planet-side for the first time. My boarding crews notice it too and they call the bridge in alarm.

"Bridge this is Seven Cloud Six. We just had a change in polarity down here. Advise."

Shit. A shift in polarity only means one thing. The g-cylinder has had a power surge.

"Seven Cloud this Commander Sincline. We're coming online here. Stand Ready. Execute to Follow." I say back.

The truth is I have no idea what order to give right now. G-cylinder containment failures are theoretical problems and the stuff of nightmares. The phrase "sup-atomic disintegration" sticks in my mind. As do "inter-dimensional worm-hole" and "event horizon." If the g-cylinder destabilizes and the containment field fails the resulting explosion will be visible throughout the galaxy. There will be nothing left of us except traces of radiation.

"Yoi! Are you online yet? I need these systems up so I can power down that g-cylinder that's going to shit. And where the fuck is McAllister?" I growl.

Just then there's another pressure wave and this one sets off the alarms and a monotone 'whoop-whoop' resonates throughout the ship. Teams from all over the ship start hailing the bridge. I delegate the responsibility of answering them to my second.

"I'm in Sir, but I keep going blue and getting kicked out. I need the executive over-ride or some more time to shim the codes." he answers tensely.

I don't need to tell him that we don't have more time and the situation is going critical, but I do anyway.

"Hurry the fuck up."

"Yes, Sir."

I am about to call my prisoner escort when I hear a voice behind me.

"Miss me already?" It's Captain McAllister.

"No. I need your XO card." I say without turning around. All of my previous civility is gone.

"Oh, that. Are you sure I didn't leave it up here?" she asks with an innocence that she has never known.

I turn on her at the end of my patience. "Old woman, give me that card now."

"I think it's in my pocket." She says and holds up her shackled hands. I nod to the guard to unlock her. She pats around her uniform tunic taking far longer than she needs. "Ah, here it is!" she produces the card with a flourish. I reach around and snatch it out of her hand and slide it into the slot at the command console and I try to access the command screen. Nothing happens. I glare at her.

"You need the password." She tells me.

"Give it to me." I demand.

"No. I'm afraid I won't do that."

"Yes, you will!" I shout at her. Normally this would be enough to send even one of mine shaking. But she remains calm, almost bored. I can sense her lack of reaction undermining my authority. I stalk over to her and grab her by the upper arm haul her up on her toes.

Just then there's another wave, this one strong enough to jolt us off balance. The change in the ship's artificial gravity is markedly stronger and I can feel it push-pulling on me with random pulses. The warning alarms increase to critical and a ships emergency system starts issuing contra-alto evacuation orders in Trade.

"This is my ship now and you will do as I command! Or I will-!"

"You will what?" she cuts me off. "Have me flogged for insubordination?" She asks as the sultry voiced emergency system repeats the order to evacuate.

"Nnhg!" I growl and drop her back to her feet in exasperation

"Sir, I'm in." It's Yoi and he sounds grim. "Sir, power is being diverted from all systems and rerouted to the g-cylinder. It's reached critical and the containment field is collapsing." He puts the schematic on the side screen and I see the numbers. This was deliberate.

"You did this!" I accuse her.

Her steely eyes meet mine. She nods and I see that she is indeed lovely when she smiles.

"Why?" I ask as if it matters.

"I wouldn't have if some _hnafir'rau_ commander hadn't destroyed to jump port." She answers sharply. I set my jaw at the Drule insult. The soft spoken lady is gone and now I meet the woman with the mettle to rise up the ranks of the Alliance command.

"There are four lifeboats left. I suggest you use them. Oh, and you might want to order your crew on the _Rihan Annsu_ to evacuate as well. That is if they don't mutiny and do it themselves once they figure out that you've led them to slaughter." She continues.

"What?" I ask. Then I see what she has done. Conniving old bitch! She had lured us on board with her supposed helplessness. I was right! It was too easy! Now half of my crew is onboard this potential 'black hole' and the other half is tethered to it along with my ship! All the while her crew is well out of harm's way awaiting rescue.

The alarms increase in urgency and the computer now begins a count-down. We have an estimated 15 minutes left before the g-cylinder collapses and rips a hole into space-time. Unless the old bitch can be convinced to shut it down. Which I know she won't be since this is what she had planned all along. She will go down with her ship and the Alliance will honor her. Probably by naming a warship after her! And I can either run like a coward or go down with mine. But either way and my crew and I will be ridiculed from one end of the Fleet to the other. _Hnafir'rau _they too will call me and laugh. I feel my face grow hot just thinking about the shame.

I can hear my father's scathing voice in my head as clearly as if he were here. _Lotor! You fool! You failure! You worthless weakling! I should have had you thrown in the Pit when you were born!_

I cannot fail. I cannot run because there is nowhere to hide. I have no option but to succeed. If I abandon ship and live it will prove my father right. If I die here he will still be right. No! The idea is unthinkable….Unbearable! And I will risk everything and do anything to prove the miserable bastard wrong!

"Sir? Should I call to abandon ship?" My second asks. I am outraged! He should listen to me! Not her! This is my bridge! I command here! I glance around at my men and I see their eyes now hold apprehension instead of the admiration of moments ago. They have heard the word mutiny and I see the idea twisting around their minds.

"No!" I draw my sword and the lazon hums dangerously. "Nngh!" I growl at all of them and dare them to act on their thoughts. One by one they look away, ashamed of their disloyalty and cowardice.

I notice McAllister studying the main visual intensely. On screen are the escape pods that she has sacrificed herself for. They are in formation in lines four across and five deep making a cube shape. They have been slowly and steadily jetting away all this time, moving safely out of range. She has a peculiar expression on her face. It is at once anxious and hopeful. There is more in this for her than a hero's death, something for which she will gladly suffer an indescribable hell. Suddenly it becomes clear why she stayed aboard to see her mission completed. I see the chink in her armor and I set straight for it.

I hail the bridge of the _Rihan Annsu_.

**Glossary: **

**Hnafir'rau**: noun, adj. Insult literally meaning wet-nose.

**Rihan annsu**: Name of Lotor's ship. "Shadow-Cast". Referencing the shadow the victor casts over the fallen when they stand over him/her to deliver the killing blow.

_**Authors Note**__: The g-cylinder is the device that creates artificial gravity on board the ship. _

_The concept of artificial gravity was explored as early 1930 in science fiction stories. Over the years these ideas from speculative/science fiction have been experimented with by scientists with varying degrees of success. Finally, March 21, 2006 research supported by the European Space Agency (ESA) reported the first non-Newtonian gravitational fields of a measurable magnitude. The successful model of the artificial gravity device was in fact a cylinder with a vacuum chamber which was derisively dismissed as "science fantasy" when first written about in 1931. Thought this was really a cool factoid so I just thought I'd share._

_Oh, one more thing. I feel the need to reference where I'm getting my Drule vocabulary from. It is actually a bastardized cross of Romulan and Vulcan which I found online at:_

_Tshala __**"**__dot" tripod "dot" com "backslash" rom "dash" dict "dot" html_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Chapter 4**

My first officer appears on the screen. "Sir, we've been getting readings—"

"Secure all decks and set a course to intercept the escape pods." I cut him off. There is no time to listen to his questions or explain. I notice McAllister glance at me sharply.

"Sir? Shouldn't you evac?" he asks. "Our scanners indicate that your g-cylinder is—"

"Don't question me! Set a course to intercept! Now!" I shout. I have no patience for giving explanations for my junior officer's approval under the best of circumstances and certainly not now. There isn't time to evacuate. There isn't even time for the _Rihan Annsu_ to detach and get safely away. The only hope we have to get out of this alive is to take the g-cylinder offline before it collapses. I know there is only one way to get McAllister to co-operate with this plan. And that is to threaten the precious cargo she has tucked aboard one of those escape pods.

Right now they are far enough away that if we fired upon them they could easily maneuver as a group and avoid our missiles and laser fire. In addition, their shielding will be far more effective at this distance and will save them from being destroyed from the energy burst of the Highlander's implosion. We must get within range of the escape pods if I wish to hold them hostage and force McAllister's hand. They may have a head start but they do not have the propulsion of a warship. We can catch them in minutes. Which is all we have.

"Sir! I urge you to-!" he stammers. He is afraid for himself, the coward. If we live through this I will make sure he wishes he didn't.

"Do as you're told!" I growl at him.

"Yes, Sir."

"Execute to Follow."

"Yes, Sir." He replies. I maintain visual of my bridge so I can be sure that he is carrying out my orders without further delay. The plan I have made is enough of a long shot without my authority being questioned at every turn.

I call all hands and order all personnel away from the decks connected by the catwalks and to seal off all hatches. The walks are designed for use on stationary vessels and will most likely tear away from both ships once we are under way. The sudden depressurization will wreak havoc on those decks affected but the situation is unavoidable. There is no time to close down and seal off the walks properly. I don't want to think about the damage this will cause to the _Rihan Annsu_ and the Highlander or how I will reconnect the ships once we get through this. I can figure that out later…if we survive. I rack my brain for any information that might improve our chances.

It has turned out to be fortunate that an act of prejudice against my human heritage may just be what saves us. In spite of graduating in the top five percent of my class at the Academy and being recognized as one of the finest pilots in the Supremacy, I spent the first years of my career in the fleet as a bilge rat working in propulsions and engineering of a recovery vessel. Our sole function was the towing of disabled or de-powered ships back to port for repair or re-fitting. I had always been resentful of that inglorious assignment and felt that it had initially hindered my ability to be promoted. But now I am grateful because it has given me an edge in this improbable disaster. I know my ship alone will not be able to move fast enough to get within range while towing the extra bulk of the carrier. The Highlander will need to be under some of her own power to assist if we are to intercept the pods and have the time needed to _negotiate_ with McAllister. For most of my peers it would be a nightmare to co-ordinate the high thrust movement of two vessels of considerably unequal mass and power, but for me it is as routine as writing my own name.

"Yoi! What have we got over there? Anything?" I ask him. Then I call propulsions.

"This is Sincline do you have the auxiliaries online yet?"

"Uh, no Sir…uh, we were waiting for the over-ride codes." They answer hesitantly. Useless pieces of shit. They will tell me later that they were waiting as per my orders, but right now I don't care. Their blind obedience and lack of initiative may play a part in killing us all.

"Hey Sir! I got bug in here for us. We have the bridge back but we're going to have to divert power from all non-essentials to get it up and running." Yoi says excitedly.

"Good. Can you shut down the power to life support?" I ask hopefully.

"Ah….No Sir. Not yet. I can't shut her off but I can slow her down. Whoever did this is an evil genius."

"How much slower? Can you get into propulsions?" I ask glancing as McAllister's lips press into a thin tight line.

"About ninety seconds." He answers. "Already there. Auxiliaries are on line….now!"

"Outstanding! Transfer control to the bridge."

The bridge goes dark except for the glow from the visual and consol lights as I shut down the non-essential systems to funnel power to those we need. Another alarm goes off as the air filtration system shuts down adding to the cacophony of bleats, sirens and dulcet voiced warnings. We have about 20 minutes of breathable air without it. Under the circumstances it may be more than we need.

I move to the navigator's consol. I examine the too familiar instruments and for once I am glad that the Alliance steals our technology every chance they get. I begin setting the intercept course for the pods and adjusting the system for timing precision. We will be upon them in just under six minutes. Including the ninety second gift that Yoi has given us we will have three to spare.

"Yes, Sir. Transferring now."

I hail my bridge.

"The Highlander is under her own power and ready to assist. On my mark prepare to engage." I say harnessing myself into the chair as I transfer our coordinates and a link up with the bridge of the _Rihan Annsu. _

"Received coordinates. Standing ready." My first officer responds.

"You'll still never get within range for effective fire. And even then, you can't take out all of them. You don't have the time." McAllister says smugly.

I ignore her for the moment. She has no idea what I have in mind for her crew or herself.

I order my crew to secure McAllister and themselves and prepare for high G thrust. The old lady is not wearing a g-suit and I wonder how well she'll handle the trip, short as it may be. I need her alive. At least for the next nine minutes.

"Three…two…one…engage!" I order and both the _Rihan Annsu_ and the Highlander launch ahead in perfect synchronicity. I am pressed into my chair and I feel the legs and arms of my suit compress to keep the blood from pooling in my extremities. I fight off a wave of dizziness and I wish that I, like my crew, still had my helmet on.

Although it is a short trip, verifiably so by the minute by minute account of the emergency announcement system, but it seems to take forever. But at last the cube formation of the escape pods looms large and close in the visual. I turn to McAllister. The old woman is somewhat beaten up from the trip. Her nose is bleeding and the blood has streaked backward across her cheeks to disappear under her earlobes. Her eyes appear shot with broken blood vessels that will be quite nasty looking if they get a chance to clot.

"Now will you shut down the G-cylinder?" I ask getting up from my place at the navigation consol and walking over to the command chair gesturing at the consol.

She is silent as she uses her hand to wipe at the blood dripping down into her mouth and she stares at the visual. Her breath comes in deep gasps. She is in physical pain but I can see her inner torment is worse. She realizes that I have no intention of firing on her pods. I plan to take them out along with us when the field collapses. Her crew and whoever else she has tried to sacrifice herself to protect is now going to share her fate unless she stops it. She has failed in her duty and now she must choose whichever she considers is the lesser of two evils for her crew.

"Which is it, old woman? Death or imprisonment?" I ask taunting her.

"Is there a difference with you people? Imprisonment! Ha! Slavery you mean!" she retorts. "It's worse than death."

"For you or for them?"

"This isn't about me!—"

"Isn't it though? Hmm…?" I switch to Terran and I am rewarded by her startled looked. "What did you think? That you would go down with your ship? That you would bravely sacrifice yourself for your crew and face down the evil Drule invaders alone? Killing all of us practically singlehandedly with your clever trick. Your peers would talk about it for years! Probably name a destroyer after you! See where your conceit has gotten you?" I continue baiting her in her own language. I can see her conflict and I know she will break.

"You idiot boy! This is you and your arrogance! You would kill everyone! Mine and yours for your pride!" She is not shouting but her voice carries the resonance of command.

It is a fair argument and not without merit but we are out of time and she is out of options. I know it and she knows it.

"No. Not me. You. You will kill them. With your stubbornness. Live or die you and yours are defeated by some _hnafir'rau_ Drule. Now choose…will you send them through hell so you don't have to live with the guilt of your failure? Or will you let those who can, be ransomed and talk about your bravery in the face of the enemy?" I ask, forcing my tone to be conversational and betray none of the rising panic I feel.

I know that preserving her reputation is not her reason for indecision. And that she is not thinking about the fate of her entire crew in these agonizingly quick passing moments. But just the one among them that is her whole reason for living. I don't know how I know this but I do. Just as I know firsthand that a mother will do anything to protect her child.

She unfastens her harness and stands shakily as the emergency countdown switches from minutes to seconds.

"You will ransom them, then? Do I have your word? The pledge of a Dai'semi ri Hru'hfirh hlai?" she asks.

"Yes. All those that can be. You have my word as _Dai'semi_." I answer impressed that she has enough knowledge of our culture to request that I do so.

"And you? Do you offer _rh'tanni_?" she asks my second.

Au'e s'uai _tanni_." He gives the traditional response and nods.

She walks unsteadily to the command consol where I am standing as the seconds slip away.

"Move!" she barks and I jump and brace to attention like the junior officer I no longer am. I both annoyed and amazed that throughout all of this she has lost none of her bearing or authority. I find myself envying her for it.

She re-inserts the XO card and her fingers flicker over the keypad. She types quickly. Faster than Yoi who watches her in rapt attention. There is a system wide power surge and the lights and air filters come back on for a moment. She curses softly as they go back out and types several codes in rapid succession. I watch as she enters her password, hits the repeat bar three times and waits.

Then there is a pressure wave and a marked decrease in gravity as the emergency system counts 19 seconds to failure then stops. Small, unsecured objects begin floating and it takes me a moment to realize that it is over. There is stunned silence among my crew as the alarms cease and now the emergency system announces the loss of gravity and issues instructions to stow non essential items and to change into survival gear.

I exchange incredulous looks with my crew. We are alive! There will be no massive energy burst to announce my failure to the galaxy. In fact, I have won. Again. Really won this time. I let out a shout of triumph and relief! I am joined in celebration by my crew on here and on the _Rihan Annsu._

The lights on the bridge flicker on and other functions return one at a time as the system reboots itself, except for the gravity which remains offline. I look around and see the blasters and packs carried by my crew floating away from their bodies and I realize that the only thing holding my men and I down are the magnetized soles of our boots. Anything that has not been fastened down is adrift. Including poor little Captain McAllister. She is slightly bent over the command consol clutching the edge and has a toe hooked under the foot rest. It is as undignified a position as the Captain can find herself in. I know it is very ungentlemanly to gloat. But I do anyway.

**Glossary: **

**Dai'semi**: _noun_, Prince or noble lord

**Hru'hfirh hlai**: _noun_, Father's noble house

**Rh'tanni**: _noun_, formal witness of a pledge; surety that promise will be honored

**Au'e s'uai tanni**: _trans_. "Yes, I bear witness."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 5**

She lowers herself into the seat in a practiced motion obviously learned in the early years of Alliance space exploration, before their ships had artificial gravity. I frown in annoyance as she buckles herself in and settles down securely in the captain's chair.

I reach down and unfasten the harness and she glares at me.

"What are you-?" she starts to ask.

"Get out of my chair. You are not the Captain anymore." I tell her taking her by the arm as she drifts up off the seat. She grips the side of the console with her other hand. Her mouth opens and closes and she looks away from me for a moment then lowers her head in resignation and is silent.

She is still bleeding and her blood is forming little round globes as it lifts off her face and floats in the air around her. I call the meds over.

"Here. She's sprung a leak. I need her patched up and clean." I say as I hand her over. He takes her arm and guides her over to an open chair and fastens her down.

"Sir? We're being hailed by the one of the pods. Says he's First Officer of the Highlander." My second tells me.

"He can wait. Get me the damage report on the Highlander." I say glancing at McAllister's bloody face. I need her to inform her crew that she has surrendered and that they are my prisoners. The sight of her in this condition is not likely to inspire them to co-operate with us.

"Yoi, check the systems for any other surprises." I order.

I hail the Rihan Annsu to check on the condition of my ship. "This is Sincline. I need a damage report, over."

It comes and I learn both of the remaining catwalks have collapsed and damaged multiple decks. Including some berthing and prison bays. My crew is now trying to seal off and re-pressurize them while trying to contain several fires. I order them to report with the final estimate when the fires are out. The Highlander has sustained far less structural damage than my ship but even so large portions of several decks have been destroyed. It's a disaster, but at least we all will live through it.

Well, most of us, I think, as I look back at McAllister. She looks terrible.

My meds has her holding a piece of gauze under her nose but it is already soaking through. He's cleaned up the blood on her cheeks and neck, but I can see that it has stained the collar and epilates of her uniform tunic. Thankfully it is a dark blue fabric and will not be obvious on the visual. I only hope that she will not collapse while I still need her.

"What is that?" She asks the medic as he attempts to administer something in a syringe.

"It's a coagulant. It will stop you from bleeding all over everything." He replies with a sour expression. He has no love of the Alliance and I think he would rather let her bleed to death.

"I know what a coagulant does! Have you even treated a human before?" she snaps at him.

"Yes. Many. My first post was at _ Dai'athyra_. Interrogations."

" Lovely. Watch your dosage. I'm a female." She says as she eyes the syringe.

"I noticed. We had plenty of those there too." He replies smirking as her eyes widen in outrage.

Content that she will live I turn my attention back to the bridge. I have quite a dilemma now that I have avoided defeat and certain death. I have to figure out how to survive victory.

I have now a crew of 850 personnel and nearly three times that many prisoners that will need to be brought under control, fed, housed and kept healthy. I had planned to use the Highlander to hold her crew after I had them in custody. Keep them in their own prison bays and tow the ship until I could rendezvous with another Drule vessel and transfer them over to the Supremacy for processing. Of course that was before the g-cylinder went off-line and both ships were nearly destroyed.

While the Highlander has plenty of room for both my crew and prisoners it has no gravity. And my ship that has lost nearly all of her berths. I have no choice but to move most of my crew over to the Highlander. Normally this would be helpful in keeping the prisoners in check, but unless the g-cylinder can be brought back online, it will be an uncomfortable trip back to Supremacy shipping lanes.

But first things first, I have to get the prisoners onboard to the Highlander. Somehow I have to co-ordinate the movement of twenty one escape vessels filled with thousands of hostiles into the hanger bay without using deadly force. Then I will have to figure out what to do with them until we can restore gravity. That is, if we can restore gravity. My previous experience with humans tells me that nothing will be as easy as it sounds. Hopefully having McAllister as a hostage will help.

"Sir?" My meds calls for my attention. "I've got the bleeding stopped." I look over and McAllister, while she is not the tidy picture of an Alliance fleet officer that she was when we first met, she is at least presentable.

"Good. I was getting hungry." I say. It's true. The smell of blood in the air is strong and becoming distracting.

"Yes, sir. Me too." He says and a few of my crew nod in agreement.

"Disgusting creatures." McAllister grimaces and shoots me a scowl. I smile flashing my canines at her in response.

"Relax, Captain, you're much too gristly. We prefer younger, more tender….delicacies." I taunt her and I am immediately rewarded when her face drains of color. She understands my implication completely.

"Hail the crew of the Highlander." I order my second as I walk over and stand behind her.

"You are to tell them that you have surrendered and they are my prisoners. And that the terms of the surrender include that they will be ransomed if they behave themselves and killed if they do not. Nothing else. Any more tricks and I will slice off your head. But not before I make you watch those pods get shot down one at a time. Do you understand?" I ask as I draw my sword and hold it in front of her throat.

"Yes." She nods.

"Captain-!" The Highlander's First Officer starts and then falls silent as he registers the image of his Captain with a lazon sword at her throat on his visual. "You bastards! If you've hurt her, I swear I'll—I'll-!" he regains his voice and uses it to issue an incomplete threat.

"Lieutenant Mendoza! I assure you I am fine and I have been well treated." She says cutting him off before he can continue his tirade. "I have surrendered to Commander Sincline of the Drule Supremacy's Fourth fleet in exchange for the lives of the crew. He has promised that his intention is to hold the crew for ransom."

"_Senora, no les creas! Que estan mintiendo los animales!"_ He says switching to a human language I've never heard before. I warned her no tricks! I bring the humming blade close up under her chin and she instinctively draws back from the heat.

"Lieutenant! Enough! You will speak in Trade only. Commander Sincline has also promised me that if any of you cause any trouble you will all be killed. I would like to address the crew now. Please hail them immediately." She orders, maintaining her glacial calm.

"Aye, Aye, Ma'am." He acknowledges. A few moments later he nods and says "They are ready."

"Crew of the Highlander, this is your Captain speaking. It is with deep regret that I inform you that I have negotiated the surrender of the Highlander to Commander Sincline of the Drule Supremacy's Fourth fleet.

"It is my command that you lay down your arms and take no actions that will result in the harmful retaliation of the enemy against yourselves or your fellows. I know that this will require all of your training and test both your physical and moral courage to their limits. I have the upmost confidence that you will not only be able to endure these trials but also prevail. The terms of surrender dictate that you will be not sold into slavery but be held for ransom only and returned unharmed to your families. Commander Sincline, who is also the Crown Prince of Korrinoth, has given me the pledge of his noble house that these terms will be honored." She pauses a moment and sits up a little straighter in her chair.

"I want you all to know I bear the full responsibility for this terrible circumstance and that you have been—one-one of the finest crews I have had under my command. Do not lose heart as I have not and I will continue to do all I can to ensure your swift return home. " She finishes and I sheath my sword and nod for my second to cut the communications. The screen goes abruptly goes to star-scape and McAllister drops her shoulders with a ragged breath.

In spite of myself I feel a pang sympathy for her. We Drules may not admire much about humans but we admire courage whenever we see it. She has been a worthy foe and has never lost her dignity. I hope I never know what she is feeling right now.

I order her removed from the bridge and sent to the brig for a second and final time. I am about to relent and confine her to quarters instead, when she stops at the door, turns to me and says "Sincline, don't congratulate yourself too much. She isn't a carrier anymore, you know? The Highlander was refitted six months ago. She's a Blunder Bus."

"A-a what?" I ask.

She smiles at my confusion. "A transport vessel for boot cadets that still have to finish their specialty training." She turns away as her guards nudge her to move on.

I watch as she leaves, rationalizing what she has just told me. Not a carrier? A transport vessel? A—what did she call it? A Blunder Bus? Regardless, the Highlander is still a substantial prize for the monetary value of the vessel itself and the human cargo. But for some reason I am left feeling like she has just taken the meat off my dinner plate.

Scowling I turn my attention back to the bridge. The enormous amount of work I still have to do threatens to overwhelm me. I remember being resentful of my commanders before, thinking how easy it is to be able to issue orders while others do all the work. As I moved up in rank I realized that authority brings with it as many burdens as privileges. I still had yet to learn the amount of sacrifice that true leadership requires. I take a moment to prioritize what needs my immediate attention and then begin issuing orders myself.

I tell my second to hail any nearby Supremacy vessels and request emergency assistance. I have no doubt that the Alliance has warships already en-route at full power to rescue the Highlander. There is no way I could even begin to defend against an attack at this point. If I hadn't destroyed the jump port they would more than likely be here already and I would be the one negotiating for the lives of my crew. Luckily we are in Supremacy territory and there are bound to be a few ships within a several light minutes of us. Even so it will be a race to see if ours or the Alliance will get to us first. The sooner I can get underway the better.

"Yoi? Any chance we can get the g-cylinder back on line?" I ask.

"Uh, Sir, I don't know. I'll have to run a diagnostic, but first I have to get back in the system again." He answers hesitantly.

"Get started. And check everything else while you're at it."

" Yes, sir." He answers.

Then I hail my two fighter squadrons which have been on standby since I took over the Highlander. I order them to rendezvous with the escape pods and to escort them back to the Highlander on my order. I want them in place when I address the prisoners to let them know that escape is impossible and they have no options left except to be taken into custody.

My first officer hails me with the final damage report from the _Rihan Anssu. _The fires are finally out. There have been seven killed and sixteen wounded not counting those that were lost or injured taking the Highlander. I ask him about the cargo areas and he informs me that they are intact but the general air quality of the lower decks is very poor because of the smoke and other toxic fumes. The scrubbers should have it breathable in about twelve hours. I order him to make arrangements to set up temporary berthing areas in them as soon as possible. My crew is going to be working non-stop rotations getting both ships underway and keeping the prisoners under guard. They are going to need a place to rest between shifts, even if it is for just a few hours.

Now I have to figure out what to do with the Highlander's crew. I decide that best solution is to tractor the pods into the hanger bay and dock them there. The prisoners are just going to have to stay on board the pods until the gravity can be restored. There is no way I can have over two thousand humans floating around in prison bays. It would be a security nightmare. Not to mention a sanitation one as well. The pods will not be much better, but at least the prisoners will be safely contained albeit a bit cramped.

"Sir, we've received a response from _Kahs'Khiori Nehru._ " My second tells me. My relief is palpable. I actually I feel some of the weight lift off my shoulders. The super dreadnought is one of a massive class of warships designed to stay in space and act as a mobile base for expedition units. It is literally the size of a small city. It will have more than enough size and the fire power to escort us safely as we limp back to port.

"Excellent! Get them on screen."

"Rihan Annsu, this is Ensign Shaley of the _Kahs'Khoiri Nehru_. What is your emergency?" The young man on the other screen sounds bored and he is looking down at something on his consol. He is obviously in the middle of a tedious shift sending and receiving routine communications.

"This is Commander Sincline of the _Rihan Annsu_ hailing from the captured Alliance ship Highlander." I answer curtly and his head snaps up. His look of surprise as he sees me on his visual and the unfamiliar Alliance bridge in the background is almost comical. Now, I've got his attention.

"My ship, the _Rihan Annsu_ has been damaged in battle and the Highlander's main propulsion is out and she's lost her g-cylinder. I've got over two thousand human prisoners and no place to put them. We require your immediate assistance." I tell him enjoying the look of disbelief on his face.

"Yes, Sir! I'll alert the Captain immediately! Please stand by." He says and the screen goes blank as he notifies his Captain.

We are hailed almost immediately but it is not the Captain of the _Kahs'Khiori Nehru_. It's the First Officer of the Highlander. I disregard it. My fighter squadrons have reached the pods and surrounded them. He is obviously worried about what I have in mind. As far as I'm concerned he can sweat it out for a while longer. I tell my second to jam their transmissions.

"Hey, Sir? I'm finished with the diagnostic." I hear Yoi call me. I'm mildly annoyed at his interruption, but he has yet to waste my time.

"Go ahead."

"Um, there's an internal problem with the propulsions system, looks like they didn't finish reprogramming the computer when they switched to the new system. That's why it failed when they tried to jump and she went adrift. The coils are fried. The only reason the auxiliary works is because it's original. It doesn't look any better for the g-cylinder either. The bearings are shot and the saucer seal has lost integrity. I wouldn't even try to bring it back online. But everything else is good to go." He finishes optimistically.

"Ngh." I growl and shake my head. It's not what I wanted to hear. I'm not as irritated about the propulsions as I am about the gravity. Ships are no longer designed to function without it. Basic functions like plumbing and food preparation are impossible. Floating debris will be everywhere undoubtedly causing dozens of eye injuries. While on board the Highlander, we will be in the same survival mode as our prisoners. Stuck in our flight suits unable to wash and eating rations out of vacuum sealed pouches. Prolonged zero gravity has serious physical-side effects as well. It is a bad situation. I worry about the impact this will have on my crew's moral and health.

"This is the _Kahs'Khiori Nehru_ hailing Commander Sincline onboard the Highlander." It's Ensign Shaley.

"This is Sincline."

"Sir, I'm going to transfer you to Captain Quarq now." The visual flickers and an image of the _Kahs'Khiori's_ Captain appears. He is a fierce looking man with pronounced knobby brow ridges and the darker red-gold eyes common of people from the Old Kingdoms. I can see he is in his private quarters wearing his dressing robe. I suspect, somewhat regretfully, that my emergency has interrupted his recreational activities.

"Commander Sincline, this is Captain Quarq. What are your co-ordinates?" He asks me.

I tell him and I see him forward the information to the bridge.

"I'm sending four squadrons ahead as protective escort and I've already alerted High Command to advise boarder patrols of approaching Alliance ships. Now, tell me what the hell is going on over there?" He looks angry. Very angry.

Suddenly, I think that attacking the carrier might not have been such a good idea. I feel as if I have just been summoned to my father's throne room. My mouth runs dry and I can't think of a damn thing to say.

**Glossary: **

**Dai' athyra**- Drule military prison infamous for its systematic use of excessive and creative torture to encourage compliance and extract information from prisoners.

**Kahs Khiori Nehru**_-( female)_ name of the Super Dreadnought that responds to Lotor's emergency call. Literal translation "Ascending Sun" Has multiple meanings. Used here in reference to the larger and first rising double sun of the home planet of the Third Kingdom. Also the name of the goddess of victory. One who eternally triumphs over all others. Can be loosely translated in Terran as "the first light bringer."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP, Devil's Due Comics and Toei Animation. All other characters are. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way.**

**Chapter 6**

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Well? Sincline, what the hell is that carrier doing in our territory?" Quarq asks again. I can tell he is not a man used to repeating himself.

"Oh, um…Well Sir, we're not exactly sure yet." I begin. It's not really a lie because I still haven't had an opportunity to verify if what McAllister has told me about her personnel transport mission is true. "We were patrolling the boundary line when we picked up an Alliance propulsion signature. We traced it and discovered the Highlander past the DMZ and well within our territory. When she saw us she ran and we gave chase to intercept her before she could reach the jump port—"

"You chased a Remington class carrier in a cruiser? Why?" He interrupts me. He is truly angry.

I swallow deeply and focus on maintaining my bearing. A part of me resents his questioning because I feel he should be praising me for my victory instead of deriding my decision making. I almost want to ask him what he thinks I should have done. Inform them they are trespassing and politely ask them to leave? Perhaps offer them a safe escort back to Alliance territory? They had committed a clear violation of the recent cease fire agreement made for the Khoural Quadrant and I was well within the current rules of engagement when I ordered the attack. But I hold my tongue. He is thinking of the risk I put my crew and my mission in and by extension the Supremacy. But he didn't see what I saw and he doesn't know why I was so sure I could take the carrier.

"Sir, it was because she ran. There was no reason for a Remington Class carrier to run from us, none at all, except that there was something wrong on board that ship that made the captain fear us enough to order a retreat. So I gave the order to attack and now I have the ship in my possession and all two thousand one hundred of her crew in my custody." I tell him trying to keep it as brief as possible. There is a small chime indicating an attempted hail from the pods. They have found a way around our block. My second looks over at me and I shake my head give a hand signal to indicate to continue ignoring them.

"I see." He nods as he thinks about what I said. "She ran? Eh? Tough call. Why didn't you request reinforcements?"

"I didn't think I'd need them, Sir." I answer honestly without thinking. I cringe inside as I wait for the dressing down that my cockiness is sure to get me. To my surprise he replies with a bark of laughter then the visual goes dark and the communication is interrupted by the Highlander's first officer. They have hacked into our system. The urge to call fire on him is strong and I am barely able to suppress it.

"Commander Sincline-!" he starts and is cut off immediately by my second switching channels.

"Get the _Kahs'Khiori Nehru_ back now!" I shout at him. My second has already started hailing them.

Ensign Shaley's image appears on the visual.

"This is Commander Sincline, Captain Quarq and I were disconnected. Tell him I am standing by at his leisure."

Several moments pass before Shaley hails to reconnect me with Quarq. I am seething at the impudence of the Alliance's First Officer. What was his name? Mendoza.

"My apologies Sir, we are experiencing some trouble with our communications system." I explain.

"I see. Two thousand human prisoners, you say? All military?" he asks furrowing his brow and stroking his chin with a finger.

"Yes, Sir."

"You have them secured on board the Highlander?"

"No, Sir, not yet. They are still their in escape pods. We are escorting them back to the ship as I speak to you." I answer not sure how much I should explain.

"Escape pods? Ngh!" He frowns.

There is another hailing chime and my second curses as the visual flickers and we almost lose communications for a second time. It's Mendoza again. What is so important that he insists on bothering me when he has been told repeatedly to maintain communications silence? I nod at my second to receive the message and tell Mendoza to stand by.

"Apologies, Sir." I say

"Sounds like you've got your hands full over there so I'll cut this short. Give us a ping every ten thousand clicks so we can confirm the rendezvous point. I expect a full report when you come aboard. Get them secured and get your asses away from that jump port as fast as possible. You don't need any more trouble with Alliance warships." He says.

"Oh, no worries, Sir! I destroyed the jump port." I tell him.

"You did what?" He pauses for a moment. "Oh, never mind…just put it in the report." He shakes his head and I can't tell if he's grimacing or grinning.

Why can't I just keep my mouth shut? I guess it doesn't matter, they were going to find out eventually. Maybe it isn't as bad as I think. It wasn't even one of ours.

"Yes, Sir." I answer and the screen goes to starscape. I have a feeling that Quarq is going to put a boot in my ass when I get onboard the _Kahns'Khori._

"That went well." I comment to my second sarcastically.

"Ngh. Yes, Sir." He grunts in response. I can tell that he is reluctant to speak his mind which is unlike him. I sense a morale issue brewing.

"What's that Alliance officer's fucking problem?" I ask getting back to business.

"He says there's a malfunction with the life support on some of the pods. The air scrubbers aren't working properly." He answers.

Shit. My plan to keep the humans aboard the pods may have to be revised. "Ngh!" I growl in frustration and shake my head. Does nothing on this fucking ship work?

"Is he still on stand by?" I ask.

"Yes, Sir."

"Get him onscreen." I order.

Almost immediately Lieutenant Mendoza appears on the visual. "Commander Sincline, it's about time-" He starts to berate me but I am completely out of patience with him.

"Listen human, first of all, you will address me as Sir. Second, you are very lucky that you're worth more alive than dead, because if you weren't I would have killed you by now. And I still might." I tell him I and I mean every word. The idea of shooting down the malfunctioning pods is enticing. Especially if this Lieutenant Mendoza is on one of them.

I see his jaw clench and he swallows deeply before he replies "Yes, Sir. Please accept my apologies for my rudeness."

I am somewhat mollified by his humility and his ready acceptance of my authority. "My second officer informs me that you have life support system problems?"

"The scrubbers on three of the pods have gone down completely and four others, including the one I'm in, are working at less than sixty-five percent."

"I assume the crew in the three pods without air are wearing survival suits? How much air do they have?" I ask hoping that he will tell me that they have recirculation filters like we do. He doesn't.

"They have about eight hours left, Sir." He answers.

"That's it?" I ask in amazement. Eight hours of air left in their suits means that I can't keep them in the pods unless I want them to die of suffocation. Three hundred and sixty prisoners is a lot of revenue to lose. And then there's the additional problem of the other malfunctioning pods. I wonder how long until those fail and I lose another five or six hundred.

"Yes, Sir. I'm afraid so. I was hoping that we could rearrange the cue so that the affected vessels could dock first." He asks.

"Yes, I was going to suggest that myself. But we have a slight problem here that I'm sure you're aware of. The Highlander has no gravity so even if those pods dock first, I'm afraid the crew will have to remain on board until we can reach port." I tell him. He looks surprised.

"What? You can't be serious? We'll die!"

"Oh, I am serious. Unless you have another suggestion?" I ask him thinking that he has more pressing interest in solving this problem than I do.

"Um, yes Sir, I do."

"I'm listening."

"Um, I thought that the Highlander crew could be divided up between the fully functioning vessels until the g-cylinder could be brought back online? He says.

I'm mildly impressed. "That is actually a good idea, human. Except that the g-cylinder cannot be brought online." I tell him.

"Uh, what are we supposed to do then?" he asks.

"You'll do whatever I tell you to do, human." I tell him and signal for the transmission to end. I decide to go with his suggestion of dividing the crew among the functioning vessels. They will be very uncomfortable, but that is not my problem. I don't need them happy. I just need them alive and in relatively good health.

"Sir? We received a transmission from the fighters sent to intercept that Alliance pilot. They've got her and they're on their way back." My second informs me.

"Excellent." Finally, something has worked out as I planned.

While we wait for the pods I use the opportunity to check in with my fire teams. I order them to secure the ship and continue with their deck by deck checks. I really don't believe they will find anything, but one thing I'm now certain of is that it is nothing will be as I expect it. Then I send my flight crews to the hanger bay to get it ready. They will be docking with the damaged pods first. How they are going to move the prisoners off of those vessels and onto the working ones in zero gravity is a problem I leave for the officer in charge.

"Yoi, I need you to get me the crew manifest. Send a copy to the Rihann Anssu. " I order more harshly than I intended. I need to get a confirmed head count of how many prisoners are actually coming aboard and begin sorting and cataloguing them according to gender, age and physical conformation.

I'm becoming short tempered and a little light headed and I realize that I haven't had anything to eat since before I made contact with the Highlander. That was over sixteen hours ago. I look around and think that my fire team has not eaten in nearly that long either. They must be starving as well. I order a dinner break. I feel a little guilty because I should thought of them sooner. I make sure that everyone has their rations and then I wait until they finish. Officers eat last.

While my men have their dinner of the Supremacy's finest vacuum sealed mush. I sit at the command console and start going over the manifest that Yoi has downloaded. There are two thousand five hundred and sixty eight crew members aboard the Highlander not excluding the ones that were killed when we came aboard. I notice something odd in the ratio. There are a disproportionally large number of females aboard. Normally the ratio is about 1:16 of females to males but on the Highlander its 1:4.

Additionally, the median age of the crew is twenty three. The vast majority of them are either junior enlisted or second lieutenants. McAllister wasn't lying. This was indeed a transport mission.

Then what were they doing so close to Supremacy territory? There isn't an Alliance base for at least three months travel in the opposite direction. They must have made a navigation error during one of their jumps.

"Sir, we're ready for duty." My second says to let me know that they've finished eating. I unsnap one of my utility pockets and pull out a polyfoil pouch of field rations and read the label. It's spiced _bionet._ I hate _bionet. _I could snap the burn bar at the bottom and it would create a chemical interaction in the packaging which would heat it up, but it wouldn't make it taste any less like _kheti_ shit. And I'm so hungry that I don't want to wait.I tear the top open and start eating it cold while I look for a record for the flight plan to see where they were headed before they ended up here. I dig around my pocket again for something to drink. I wash the aftertasteout of my mouth with _Senay, _the purple flavor_._ I'm not sure if it's an improvement.

We receive a transmission from the fighter escort for the pods. They are finally here but they are not ready to dock because they haven't finished rearranging themselves in proper order. I'm not surprised. I shake my head in wonder that the human species, a disorganized angry mob of creatures, has managed to stymie the Supremacy's efforts to subjugate them for so long.

They are finally ready to dock. I was beginning to suspect that they trying to take as much time as possible hoping that they might be rescued. Again it seems to take forever to get all the pods in the hanger and secured. The crew chief informs me that they have started transferring the prisoners. And then there's a problem. What a surprise.

"Hangar bay to Bridge." The OIC, or officer in charge hails my on the comm.

"This is Sincline. Go ahead."

"Sir, we managed to get the prisoners repositioned in the functioning pods, but we can't leave them in there. They don't really fit." He tells me.

"What do you mean they don't fit?" I ask him. We must get underway!

"Sir, they won't physically fit into the pods unless they are standing front to back. There's not even six inches between them." He tells me and I hear the frustration in his voice.

"Understood. Execute to follow." I reply. I'm at a loss for what to do. He's right we can't keep the prisoner's standing literally packed together for the four or so days it will take to rendezvous with _Kash'Khoiri Nehru_. I don't care about their comfort, but their health. If they become sick they will lose value. This should not even be an issue. The scanners only showed about one hundred twenty bodies on board. There should be more than enough room on the pods to double up.

My vision wavers for a moment and I recognize it as a symptom of an approaching migraine.

Then I receive a transmission from the fighters that are bringing in the Alliance pilot. They are here too. I order them to take her aboard the Rihan Anssu and secure her in isolation in the brig. I give special instructions that no matter what she does to provoke them; they are to leave her to me. I am looking forward to meeting this young woman. I call back to the fighters and ask them to send over her identifying information.

"Gar'ein, hail Lieutenant Mendoza." I order my second.

A moment later Mendoza's sweaty face appears on the visual and he waits for me to address him.

"Human, my officer tells me that there's not enough room in the pods to hold all of you. I have decided that the three hundred prisoners that will not fit in the pods will be brought aboard my ship. I'm leaving it up to you to decide who stays and who goes." I tell him. "You have ten minutes." He opens his mouth to speak but I end the transmission. I couldn't care less what he has to say.

I return to the crew manifest and continue examining the results of the sorting program. I am pleased with what I am seeing so far. This crew is literally worth more than their weight in gold to me. As the commander of the Rihan Anssu I will receive ten percent to the total value of any captured ship plus it's cargo. When I told McAllister that I would ransom them I meant it. It makes no difference to me whether they are sold as slaves or ransomed since the price will be the same. Military vessels are particularly profitable because their crews are typically young, healthy, physically fit and already pre-conditioned to obey orders. I am especially happy that this ship has so many females on board. They are still a rarity in many parts of the Supremacy and as such the owning of human female slaves has become a significant status symbol. I doubt any will be going home unless they are the daughters of kings.

My crew chief hails me from the hanger and tells me that there is yet another problem on the pods. Apparently the prisoners held some sort of lottery to decide who would be taken aboard the Rihan Annsu. Some of those who won don't want to be separated and they refuse to leave.

I have had enough of this. We must get underway. We have been contacted twice by our escort. I have left instructions to say that we are experiencing technical difficulties. I don't want to lie but I can't risk complete candor without looking like the incompetent idiot that my father says I am.

I glance at the crew manifest and an idea comes to me. I will just take three hundred of the female prisoners aboard the _Rihan Annsu._ I was going to have to segregate them anyway. Although I have lost much of the berthing areas on my ship, over four hundred of my crew are aboard the Highlander. I'm sure that once I inform my first officer that I will be transferring female prisoners he will find a place for them. Even if he has to keep some in his own suite.

I tell my second to get the manifests from each of the pods and them to forward them to me. I plan on creating a roster by cross referencing them with the female personnel records.

It will take several minutes before the information is gathered and the download is ready so I begin checking the ratings on the prisoners. Our sorting program uses the pictures and other indentifying information in the personnel files to calculate the degree of facial symmetry, as well as body composition. The theory is the higher the degree of symmetry the healthier and more attractive the prisoner and the more money they're worth. As I look at the top rated prisoners I sense my luck changing. As well as being young, the crew of the Highlander is also disproportionately attractive.

I receive the download and just as I'm about to exit the bridge for the hanger bay we are hailed by one of the pods. I wonder what the problem will be this time.

"I need to speak to whoever's in charge." A young male appears on the visual.

"Who are you?" my second asks.

"Second Lieutenant Robert Neilson. Are you the commander?"

"I am Commander Sincline. What do you want, human?"

He hesitates for a second then says "Sir, we were informed that we were being moved because the Highlander's g-cylinder is non-functioning. It is Alliance policy that replacement parts for all essent-"

"Human, do you have a point?" I cut him off.

"Uh, yes, Sir. We can fix the g-cylinder." He says quickly.

"Oh? Are you sure?"

"Um, reasonably so. We'll have to see it in person, but—"

"We?" I interrupt him again.

"There's three of us that are engineers from life support here. Well, actually just myself and-"

"Good. I'll tell my officer to arrange for you to do just that." I say and end transmission. I hope he's telling the truth. If the g-cylinder can be brought back online most of my problems will be solved.

I hail my first officer and apprise him of the situation. He is not as enthusiastic as I had hoped and I'm now certain that there are morale issues aboard the Highlander as well. I think to improve it I should make the women available to my crew for recreation when we finally stand down. I'm glad that I took the time to sort the prisoners. I know exactly which ones I'm taking with me.

"Hey, Yoi! What was that pilot's name?" I ask. I'm curious to see what she looks like.

"Ahh…Lorn. Lieutenant Amanda Lorn." He says.

I'm mildly disappointed. I was hoping it would be McAllister. But I run it anyway and I'm stunned. The obscenity spewing bitch that tried to kill me is beautiful. She has startling green eyes and tawny skin. I can't see her hair because it's pulled tightly back in one of those ugly knots that human women seem to think are flattering, but it looks light in color. Yes, I'm definitely dealing with her myself.

**Glossary:**

**Bionet:** a meal made out of legumes and bone marrow with a some what gelatinous consistency. Usually heavily spiced.

**Kehti:** small furred four legged animal native to Korrinoth similar to a coyote but without a tail.

**Senay:** a popular brand of soft drink in the Supremacy that has a contract to supply the military. Comes in a variety of fruit flavors.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

Author's note: This chapter contains trigger material with mention of sexual assault and violent situations. Reader discretion is advised.

**Chapter 7**

I close out the image of the pilot and focus on the task at hand. I have to get those prisoners moved and secured.

I make my list of transfer prisoners by simply taking the names for the highest rated female prisoners listed from one to three hundred. Near the top I notice the surname McAllister and I feel a momentary thrill. I knew the captain was trying to protect someone and I was hoping it would be a daughter. Then I to my disappointment I see that it's actually Captain McAllister. I'm more than a little surprised that the old lady has made it into the top percentages. The program did not exclude her because of her age, proving that the intelligence of machines will never be able to completely replace that of living beings. Still, I order her to be brought aboard the _Rihan Anssu_ with the other women.

I hail my OIC, or officer in charge, in the hanger bay and tell him that I want all the prisoners removed from the pods, divided by gender and assembled for inspection. Also that Lieutenant Robert Nielsen and his engineers are to be located and set apart.

I exit the bridge taking three of my fire team with me that have been standing idle since we took over command. They are infantry and unlike Yoi and my second they have little training in the running of shipboard command center. However, the managing of prisoners is well within their skill set. I wonder how they will react to see so many human females gathered in one place. I know that many of my crew have never even seen one themselves. Except, perhaps, when viewing pornography. I hope that it doesn't prove to be too distracting.

As we ride the lift down to the hanger bay I hail my first officer ordering him to send three shuttles to the Highlander for prisoner transport. I also inform him that I and what is left of my three fire teams that I initially boarded with will be returning to the _Rihan Annsu_ and that he will be the executive officer of the Highlander in my absence. He does not sound happy about having to spend the next four days in survival gear in zero gravity. I'm irritated by his pique. Did he really think I forgot about his hesitation to act on my orders during my struggle to save our lives and this mission? Discomfort is a small price to pay for his cowardice and disloyalty during my ordeal with McAllister's sabotage.

We finally reach the hanger and the prisoners are still assembling. The two groups form haphazard lines three deep along the walk ways in front of the docked pods. At least the males and females are separated as I asked. I look around in annoyance for the OIC.

My headache is getting worse and it's hard not to be distracted by the pain. I want to ask the meds if he has something for it, but I don't want to show weakness in front of my men.

"What's the problem?" I ask him. "We were supposed to be underway over an hour ago. I told you to hurry."

"Yes, sir." He says.

I don't want to begin to separate the women who will board the _Rihan Annsu_ until they are all assembled and I have the men secured back aboard the pods. I think once they know what I'm planning it might incite chaos. I order seven fire teams to the hanger to maintain order just in case.

"Hey, look!" I hear one of mine say then he start laughing and points up. The other two follow his gaze and laugh as well. I glare at them and they recover their bearing.

Then I look to see what is so funny and to my surprise there are three Alliance prisoners floating freely, flailing aimlessly around in the zero gravity about one hundred and fifty feet up. I look at my OIC incredulously. "What the hell are they doing up there?"

"Sir, there was a fight on one of the gangways and in the scuffle a few lost their footing and went airborne. We got a hold of two of them but these others broke loose and started climbing. I thought it best to leave them up there for the time being."

"Climbing?" I ask, shaking my head. Where did they think they were going? Stupid humans.

I'm about to tell him to forget about them when the Master Sergeant in charge of security walks up with three prisoners. Two male and one female. He braces to attention when he sees me.

"Sir, these are the engineers you asked for." He tells me.

"Which one of you is Nielsen?" I ask looking at the group. Actually I'm looking at the female as are the rest of the men present. I am suddenly very aware of her in a way I wasn't of McAllister. She is young and fertile and practically oozing pheromones. And they are much more distracting than McAllister's blood. She is small with bright auburn hair and light brown eyes. Her freckled face has gone pale with fear because she is just as aware of the attention she is attracting.

"I am Lieutenant Nielsen. And this is my crew chief ensign Perry. " One says gesturing to the woman. "And this is ensign—"

"Good. What equipment do you need to fix the g-cylinder?" I ask still staring at the woman called Perry. It has been a long float and, aside from McAllister, I haven't seen a female of any kind in over six months. I tear my eyes away from her and fix them on the young man I now recognize from the visual.

"We just need to get to engineering and life support. Everything we need is down there." He says.

"Take them where they need to go. Keep me updated on their progress. Send word to the bridge as well." I order the three I brought with me. I catch myself staring at the female again and order my OIC to accompany them. I don't know if I can trust them around that female engineer long enough for her to get her work done.

They start to escort the prisoners away and one of mine is standing far too close to the girl. He reaches out and puts a hand on her back to coax her when she hesitates. She jumps ahead and other human male drops behind her protectively. This could be trouble.

"Don't even think about it!" I warn all of them as they leave. And they know exactly what I mean. If any of those fools do anything to keep that g-cylinder from being fixed I will have them all flogged.

Just to be safe I hail Yoi on the bridge and ask him to get a visual of life support so they can be observed while they work.

Suddenly there is a yell from up above. One of the floating prisoners has crashed into a mass of cables and gotten tangled. One of his companions has floated over and is attempting to free him by pulling on his arm and bracing against the bulkhead.

"Oh, Sir, this is going be good." The sergeant says a broad grin splitting his face. I glance at him and raise an eyebrow.

"Wait for it…" he says starting to chuckle.

Just then the glove of the tangled man comes off sending the one who was pulling on it screaming and cart wheeling across the hanger to crash onto the opposite wall with thud. He suddenly goes silent and limp.

The big sergeant bursts out laughing and shakes his head and I can't help laughing with him.

"That," he says pointing at the ceiling, "just made dealing with all this shit worthwhile." He tells me smiling, gesturing at the crowd of humans behind us. He is outspoken and crude. I immediately like him. I've spoken to him briefly and read his reports but I can't recall his name at the moment. I glance at his chest to check his badge. Cossak.

Now that I'm in charge the prisoners have been disarmed and evacuated quickly and mostly without incident. I think they believe that they are going to be moved to the holding cells of the Highlander. I wonder how they will react when we separate them. I look at the nearly two thousand male prisoners and I'm glad that I ordered those extra security teams to the hanger.

I order Sergeant Cossak to find Mendoza for me.

"Bridge to Commander Sincline." My second calls me over my comm.

"This is Sincline. Go ahead."

"Sir, we're being hailed by the Rihan Anssu. They want to know what the delay is."

Shit. I can't keep telling them technical difficulties. I look at the prisoners and mentally calculate how long it will take to move them all.

"Tell them we have an engineering crew getting life support back online. I estimate that we will be underway in forty five minutes." I say.

"Yes, sir. Understood."

"Sincline, out."

Cossack returns with Mendoza. He is taller than I imagined, nearly eye level with me.

"Human, I have decided that the crew of the Highlander will be divided between the two ships. After considering the dire situation with the pods and the lack of gravity I will be taking three hundred of the females aboard my ship with me." His eyes widen and he starts to say something but I continue. "And the rest of you will be put back on the pods until the g-cylinder can be fixed. I want you to inform your people of this. You are to tell them that you agree this is the best solution. Make sure they realize that I will make an example of any troublemakers. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir. Is it necessary to take the women?" He asks pointedly.

"Human! I'm surprised at you! Would you want me to leave them here? In these miserable conditions?" I scold him. "Oh, no I couldn't do that. It would not be…what's the word? Chivalrous. I wish I had room for them all."

His nostrils flair a little and he sets his jaw. I've seen this expression many times. It's the look one man gives another right before he throws a punch at him. I smirk at him daring him to try something. "Any other questions?"

"No…Sir." He almost spits out the last word. Cossack takes him over to the rows of prisoners so he can deliver my orders.

As I watch them walk away my vision clouds again and I feel a painful tightening around my skull. My headache is getting worse.

I receive word from the bridge that McAllister is secured aboard the Rihan Annsu and that the three prisoners have begun work on the g-cylinder. My second sends me a private message on my comm informing me that Yoi has had to be reprimanded twice for becoming distracted by the human female on the visual. Apparently he's fascinated by her 'spots.' Quite frankly, I'm a little surprised, I would have thought her hair was more noteworthy.

I walk over to where the prisoners are qued and I look them over while Mendoza speaks to them. It is a pleasant sight. Over two thousand of the Alliance's best and brightest that will never get the opportunity to fulfill their oath to protect and defend. Also, they are young and strong and worth a fortune to me in their monetary value and to the Supremacy in slave labor.

I glance quickly at the women, just enough to note that they are in formation at parade rest. I try not to pay obvious attention to them because I know that will cause a problem with the men. I see how restless they are and it would only take the smallest incident to incite a riot. They might be unarmed, but they outnumber us nearly twenty to one. This is arguably the most danger I have been in since the g-cylinder destabilized.

There is some dissent within the ranks as Mendoza finishes explaining what will happen. I unfasten the holster of my side arm and Cossack comes over and two guards flank me.

"Oh, fuck, Sir, this doesn't look good. " He says.

I nod in agreement. I can tell by the way a group of prisoners near the front left are shifting their weight and glancing around at each other and the guards that they have something planned. They are undoubtedly going to try to rush the guards and try to take their weapons. They are desperate and that is when the enemy is the most dangerous.

I am hesitant to order mine to fire in the hanger since there is too much risk of ricochet from the shielding that protect the walls of the hanger from accidental collisions.

"Do what you have to do but control your fire." I tell him.

"Yes, sir. Understood. By your leave?" Cossak asks me.

"As you will." I give him permission to handle the situation as he sees fit. As a senior non-commissioned officer in charge of security he has far more experience with newly captured prisoners than I do.

"Affix bayonets and prepare to engage!" He orders walking to the middle of the ranks. Moving like one entity, the security details ready their weapons and surround the both the male and female prisoners and take aim. It is an intimidating display.

The guards are no sooner in place when they are rushed by a group of the male prisoners. They are met with the glowing lazon blades of the bayonets. The attacking prisoners are quickly overcome without a single shot fired. They are gutted in place, speared on the ends of the rifles. Some are yanked off their feet when the guards withdraw their blades to move on to the next target. They float upward pumping sprays of blood into the air as they die. It floats in the air in a hazy red cloud swirling in the air currents. Others, more gruesomely, die on their feet, but the magnetized soles of their boots hold them down and they remain upright like broken toys in the zero gravity with their intestines and other organs blooming out of their wounds.

The dying gasps and gurgling screams of the fallen are terrible and effectively subdue any further violence. This was most likely an impromptu effort and the lack of a second wave gives further evidence of the lack of co-ordination. I wait until they quiet and then I take note of how many prisoners are no longer of any value. There are twenty seven dead.

I order the guards to escort the prisoners back onto the pods. There is another minor struggle involving about a half a dozen prisoners. They are quickly dispatched. There are four more dead, one of them is Mendoza. After that the rest comply without incident.

I turn my attention to the women who seem to have been shocked into submission by watching the deaths of their crewmates.

"Nhg. Sir, there's so many you could try them on like hats." I hear Cossack come up and murmur behind me.

I shoot him an admonishing look, but he's right. There certainly is an impressive variety from all over the Alliance. As much as I want to take my time examining each one the shuttles are arriving and I must get underway. There will be plenty of time for that later.

"I am Commander Sincline of the Drule Supremacy's Fourth fleet. You are now the property of the Supremacy and under my authority until the negotiated arraignments can be made for your release." I say to them. "You will step forward when you hear your name called."

We begin calling the names on the roster but no one comes forward. They just stand there impassively like they haven't understood. I know what they are doing. It is the worst mistake they could have made. I stalk the ranks scanning the name badges until I find one on my list that I have called with no response.

"Are you Specialist Melissa Nguyen?" I ask fingering the letters stenciled on her suit.

"Yes." She answers in a clipped tone staring straight ahead.

"Did you hear your name called?"

"No, sir. I did not. Your accent makes it difficult understand you." She answers and I hear the hint sarcasm in her voice.

I glance around at her fellows and the conspiring glances they exchange confirm my suspicions. I know exactly what game they are playing and I intend to make an example of her.

"I see." I say and then I grab her by the arm and yank her out of line and drag her over to the nearest two soldiers behind me.

"She is insolent and needs to be taught a lesson." I tell them and turn back around. I don't need to watch what is happening. I can hear the sounds of the struggle and the rending of fabric. The horrified expressions of the women, the sound of my men cheering and Nguyen's screams let me know that my orders are being carried out.

"Does anyone else have difficultly understanding me?" I ask. They answer with a few trembling head shakes and several barely audible mumbles of "No, sir."

Suddenly the women are very co-operative and the prisoner transfer to the _Rihan Anssu_ is accomplished with surprising efficiency.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

A/N: Edited to put the blood back in bloodwine and an extra course or two of squick on the dinner menu. Bon appetit! ;)

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 8**

As soon as my First Officer comes aboard the Highlander with his crew I recall my fire team to the hanger and we depart in the last shuttle with our prisoners. I will never forget the look on Yoi's face when he came aboard that shuttle full of human women.

We are finally aboard the Rihan Annsu and I leave my Second and Sergeant Cossack in charge of security overseeing the prisoners with strict instructions that they are the property of the Supremacy and their value is not to be compromised. I don't wait for the prisoners to finish disembarking the shuttles before I head to the bridge with Yoi. I can still smell traces of smoke from the earlier fires. My crew braces to attention when I enter.

"As you were. " I say and sit down more heavily than I intended at my command console. It is strange how bulky I feel even after just a short time in zero gravity.

I calibrate the tractor beams and hail propulsions so they can make the adjustments to compensate for a slow acceleration with the added mass of the Highlander. This can be just as tricky as a high acceleration because we will be traveling a long distance and the prolonged stresses on the two ships could literally pull them to pieces if not calibrated properly. It takes a few attempts, but we are finally underway.

I send a message with our rendezvous co-ordinates to the _Kahs Khoiri Nehru_ and to our escort. They send confirmation with their reply.

I exhale deeply and it occurs to me that it is over. I have done it. I have my first kill. I have confronted the enemy, overcome their defenses, taken possession of their vessel and the subjugated crew are now my prisoners. I did this all myself, my own efforts, not as part of an attack or following someone else's orders. This is all of my own making. It takes a moment for it to sink in, but for the first time in my life I feel truly victorious without needing the affirmation of others.

I glance at my crew and they look dead on their feet. It has been more than thirty-six hours since we went on full alert. There is really no need for all of them to be on the bridge. I can run it myself with just a skeleton crew. I dismiss all of them except my navigator and communications officer. They will have four hours rest and we will take first watch.

"Sir? Um, I'm not really tired, I still have the rest of the Highlander's data banks to sort and translate. I was wondering if I have your permission to stay on duty and continue." Yoi asks me.

His energy and enthusiasm are astounding. He has been entirely too self motivated throughout this ordeal to be ass-kissing now. But this is his first combat deployment and I know that he will be feeling the after effects of the constant adrenaline rush of the last few hours and be crashing hard very soon.

"No. Go get some rest. You can finish when you return to your post." I tell him.

"Yes, sir." He answers.

I should reprimand him for his earlier behavior on the bridge but when I notice that he takes his field pack with him instead of stowing it at his station I don't say anything. I remember being a young officer and wanting to impress my commander. I wish I had eight hundred more just like him.

I order my navigator to get us some _ullan_ and I take some _emeires_ for my headache which has progressed so far that it is only going to be relieved by sleep.

Except for a few hails from my security teams letting me know that the prisoners are secure, the next few hours are completely uneventful. I use the opportunity the start gathering the information I will need to write up my official report and update the ship's log.

A little later I get a hail from my First Officer.

"This is Lieutenant Reiv from the Highlander hailing Commander Sincline."

"This is Sincline. Go ahead."

"I just wanted to update you that the g-cylinder is back online and gravity has been restored, although not at full power." He tells me. I am relieved beyond words.

"Excellent. Begin moving the prisoners, starting with the females, one pod at a time to the brig. Those that we don't have room for secure in the cargo bays." My instructions are specific because I don't want a repeat performance of what happened earlier in the hanger.

"Yes, sir. Understood. Sir? One more thing, there was a problem with one of the engineers." He says.

"Oh? What kind of problem?" I ask. I have a feeling that it involves the woman. I am sure he is going to tell me one of the men had to be killed.

"Sir, um, the female attacked one of the guards."

"What?" I ask. I was not expecting this.

"Yes, she assaulted him with some piece of equipment. He was injured, not badly, but he's in medical getting treated for a head wound." He explains.

I exchange looks with my navigator and communications officer. "Who was it?" I ask.

"Private Tarek." He says.

I should have known. He is excellent in a fight but I have had to reprimand him on multiple occasions for disorderly conduct and generally being a discipline problem. I have a very good idea what caused the situation. But how he ended up in medical from an altercation with a human female is something I have to see for myself.

"I see. Stand by." I tell him. My communications officer cues the visual and the images of the three engineers and the guards as they walk in the two chambers that contain the g-cylinder and cooling tank appear. We forward through the footage of them working until I see something interesting. We reverse it and bring it to normal viewing speed and I see Tarek grope the woman as she walks by. She shies away. He does it two more times.

"Bring up the sound." I order. Sure enough the OIC reprimands him. He pulls Tarek aside and talks to him and orders him to stand by the entrance of the cooling tank. A few moments later he leaves his post walks by her and leans over and says something in her ear. She jumps away from him and curses, swinging what looks like a wrench striking him on the side of him head. He slams her on the ground and would probably have killed her if the OIC and another soldier hadn't grabbed him and stopped him.

It's as I suspected. He was violating my orders and those of his OIC. I should have him flogged for his insubordination. He is lucky that the woman was able to finish her work

"Sir? Can we see the part where she hits him again?" My navigator asks.

I nod and the comm officer replays it. "Ngh! That had to leave a mark!" He says laughing.

"He went to medical for that? _Sulak." _My navigation officer chimes in. I have to agree with him. None of mine should be in medical for a hit from a human female.

We watch the replay several more times, and it keeps getting funnier. The last time my comm officer slows it down for detail. I have to admit the little female got in one lucky shot. I'm not sure what I should do with her though. She assaulted one of my crew and I can't let that go unpunished, but she did complete the job and restored the gravity. I'm at a loss with what to do with her.

"What are all those marks on her face? It's not contagious is it?" he asks zooming for a close up on her face.

"No, it's a rare pigment mutation." I say. If it wasn't the girl would be getting sent out an airlock.

"Weird. Never seen an orange one before. I can't decide if it's ugly or not. Hair's pretty though."

I log into my command console and check where she is on my list. I find her near the top third, number one hundred and nineteen. She should have come aboard the Rihan Anssu with the others. She is not to my taste, but her flashy coloring alone makes her more valuable than her initial ranking would suggest. I think I will have her brought aboard with my three remaining crew. I decide to leave my Second onboard to keep an eye on my First Officer and I will have Cossack accompany them to prevent further incidents

I hail him on his comm. "Master Sergeant Cossack, this is Commander Sincline. I need you to act as escort for my fire team and retrieve a violent prisoner from aboard the Highlander."

My navigator and communications officer smile and shake their heads.

"This is Cossack. Yes, Sir. Understood. If I may ask, what's the problem?" He replies.

"It's an unusual situation. Stand by for visual." I say and tell my comm officer to send Cossack the footage of the woman striking Tarek.

I wait for moment, then he hails me on my comm. "Understood, Sir." He says laughing.

"Check with medical to make sure Tarek is well enough to travel." I tell Cossack knowing how mercilessly he is going to haze Tarek after learning that. I may not need to flog him after all. I think I will put him on prison rations for a week and confine him to his barracks when not on duty. That and the ridicule of his peers will be enough to make my point.

"He's in medical? What a fucking _keshi."_ He replies. "I'm on my way, Sir."

"Sincline, out." I end the communication. I have a feeling the rest of this tour is going to be hell for Tarek once the visual of him and the woman goes viral among the rest of the crew.

I hail my First Officer and inform him of my orders.

After that the bridge is blissfully quiet with only Cossak's departure and return to break the silence.

Finally we are relieved and I head to my suite. My valet bows as I enter and I go straight to the shower. I feel disgusting. I have spent nearly twenty hours in my battle dress uniform. While the enzymes in the absorbent lining are supposed to keep bacteria at a minimum they do nothing to help the wearer actually feel clean. I unfasten the outer shell and body armor and then the lining and stuff them into the bag that will go back to the armory for cleaning and reconditioning. My uniform tunic is soaked with sweat and I peel it off along with my trousers grimacing at the smell. I toss them into the laundry chute and turn on the water. There is nothing like the pure pleasure of stepping under warm water and washing the stink of combat away.

I pull on a pair of drawstring pants that my valet has laid out for me. He offers to serve me dinner, but I wave him away. All I want is sleep and for the pounding in my head to stop. I stretch out on my bed and I am asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

After another two rotations I am secure in the knowledge that we are not being pursued and I order the official standing down of arms. We are off alert and the crew falls back into the normal routine but there are still lingering moral issues.

I am aware of this because of the standoffish manner of my crew. But Yoi has told me that McAllister is the root of the problem. She has managed to charm several of her guards and is using them to spread disinformation. Offering the idiots motherly advice about girlfriends and tsk tsking their plight of serving under such a self centered, greedy commander who almost got them all killed. In fact, she thinks I have entitlement issues because of my royal status. She has told them that the Highlander was on a transport mission taking her crew home for some holiday. And that the g-cylinder was already failing and that was why they pulled out of jump in our territory. Conniving old bitch.

She chose her words carefully. In response I will choose my actions even more carefully and we will see who will be more credible.

I feel it is time for my crew and I to enjoy some well deserved recreation. I send word to the kitchen that we will be celebrating _Khiori'haeserh._ It has turned out to be fortunate then that there were so many prisoners killed during the transport because we will be able to enjoy all seven courses and _sakhet saya_ . It is a rare treat indeed.

I have not made it known that I had planned to allow my crew access to the women and I know doing so that will definitely improve moral. However, I still don't think it's enough. McAllister has called me greedy and that bothers me. The old woman knows far too much about our culture. While my people admire the accumulation of wealth and decadence is a display of status and power, greed is a sign of paucity and weakness.

Therefore I think it is appropriate that I share more than just the women. As commander I can choose to divide up to one third of my share of the value of the Highlander among my crew. And that is exactly what I plan to do.

I issue a memorandum to my junior officers that I will be announcing this at the banquet and they are not to say anything. This should ensure that the news will travel from one end of the ship to the other before I even finish sending it.

I also hail my first officer and tell him that I will be dividing the spoils and the women will be available for recreation. And that I will send a shuttle of supplies over to the Highlander and also to retrieve the cadavers that the chef and wine steward will need.

It is common on larger vessels than mine for slaves to be onboard for the recreation of the crew. They are as standard issue as any equipment and just as necessary for the efficient running of a ship. Access is determined by rank. The commanding officer issues chits to juniors who in turn distribute them among their crews to be redeemed with each visit.

The women that are usually sent aboard a war ship are considered expendable and are, to put it mildly, at the end of their careers as pleasure servants, convicted criminals or both. They are certainly nothing I would even consider touching.

But these human women are an unexpected treat. Although they have not been processed and assessed a value they are technically the property of the Supremacy. But they are under my stewardship until I turn them over and as such they are available to my crew within my discretion. As long as there is no lasting damage I don't see why I should restrict access to any of them except for a chosen few that I will reserve for myself. And that is exactly what I'm doing at the moment, scanning through the files of women in the 1:1 symmetry ratio and setting them apart for my selection after dinner.

There are a number of pretty women but a few clearly stand out from the rest. Currently I'm looking at the profile of a platinum blonde with large blue eyes and high cheekbones. I hope that she is as lovely in the flesh as she is on my visual.

I finish choosing the ones I want separated and get dressed in my formals for dinner. I am mildly perplexed. Of all the crew, there is not one named McAllister besides the Captain. I can't believe I was wrong.

Word of my intentions has spread throughout both ships and the attitude of my crew has improved dramatically. The coldness which they have regarded me is gone and they meet my eye again when they come to attention as I pass by.

I have invited my fire team and bridge crew to dine with me at the Commander's table. This is a slight breech of protocol since most are not officers, and we receive a few glances from some of my junior officers who have had to give up their places. But they are not the ones who fought beside me.

I can tell my men are uncomfortable in the officer's mess with its table cloths, unnecessary silverware and servants. I order the _sakhet saya_ to be served and we drink toasts to our fallen. The alcohol starts to take effect and they begin to relax. It's not long before the camaraderie of the unit takes over and we all act like _hnafir'rai _at liberty for the first time. Thankfully no one gets in a fight.

Dinner is over and I make the announcement official that the entire crew has recreation privileges and a share in the spoils. This results in a round of cheering and toasts to my health and virility. As much as I'd like to stay and drink I think of the pretty blonde and I'm suddenly impatient to inspect my personal share of the Highlander's cargo. I excuse myself from the table and tell Yoi to meet me outside.

"Sir? Um, did I do something wrong?" he asks as he follows me to the lift. I can tell he's a little drunk.

"No, on the contrary, I have a surprise for you. A reward for your courage and loyalty." I tell him and his eyes go round.

"Really? What? Oh, sorry, Sir- I mean thank you, Sir." He corrects himself and flushes with embarrassment. I don't think I was ever that young.

We exit and head toward the detention area where I have my selections gathered. Cossak is waiting outside the door along with two guards. He braces to attention when we approach.

"Did you find them all?" I ask.

"Yes, sir. But I have to tell you that pilot is a _tal'shallat_. Nothing but trouble. I had to shackle her legs too." He says and pulls up the visual of a nine by fifteen room on the door panel. I can see all eleven women that I asked for are there, including Yoi's freckled redhead and Captain McAllister. I wanted the Captain there to witness exactly what she had not negotiated for her crew.

The women have stripped off their survival suits and are shackled with their hands in front. They are wearing the now rumpled uniforms they were captured in. The pilot, Lorn, is still in her flight suit although the top half is unzipped and tied by the sleeves around her waist. Underneath it she is wearing a tight sleeveless shirt that flattens her breasts and exposes her muscular arms and shoulders. Surprisingly she looks feminine until she notices the visual is activated and makes an obscene hand gesture at us.

" Sir, she's been instigating with us since we brought her on board. I'd have her impaled if it was my decision." He tells me.

"Oh, believe me, I'm going to." I say and gesture for him to open the door.

The three of us enter and the women fall silent and back away crowding together against the far wall. They are beautiful and their scent is overwhelming.

I hear Yoi mumble "Oh, damn," as he looks at them.

"Commander Sincline, I thought we had an agreement that none of my crew were going to be harmed as long as they co-operate?" McAllister asks me positioning herself in front of the women.

"And they won't be, as long as they stay co-operative." I say not looking at her and strolling up to a dark haired girl with exotic slanted black eyes. She has full lips and flawless porcelain skin. I stroke her cheek and she draws back with a small gasp.

I move on and continue my inspection. I see Yoi's redhead with her face downturned, unsuccessfully trying to hide under her astonishing hair which, unlike the others, is hanging loose in deep waves over her shoulders and down her back. And behind her is my lovely blonde. I step into the group of women and they part like water, leaving her standing alone. I look her over carefully. Pieces of her hair have come undone from her knot and I can tell that it is long and thick. Her full breasts are obvious under her uniform tunic and so is her tiny waist.

But I see by her badly bitten fingernails that she is a nervous wreck. It is also obvious that she has been weeping for hours because her eyes are swollen and bloodshot and her nose is raw. In spite of this she is still stunning, she could be the concubine of a king. However, in the terrified state she's in I'm afraid she might wet the bed. I reach out and brush a piece of her hair that has fallen in her face behind her ear. She starts shaking and both her eyes and nose start watering at the same time. She'd definitely wet the bed.

"Leave her alone you fucking asshole!" Lorn snarls at me.

I turn away from the weepy blonde and walk to stand right in front of her and ask "Do you want to take her place?"

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, the things I could do with a dirty mouth like that." I smile at her and take her chin between my two fingers. She jerks it away and she looks like she's about to bite me.

I hear Cossak laugh behind me. "If you need a ring gag I've got one." He says.

"You'll have to kill me first!"

"Lorn! Be quiet!" I hear McAllister hiss.

"Actually, I was planning on killing you after." I say still smiling. The idea of teaching this bitch a lesson is very appealing, but honestly, I'm in the mood for gentler sport tonight.

"Commander Sincline, we agreed that none aboard the Highlander would be killed or harmed if they co-operated." McAllister reminds me again.

"We did. But Lieutenant Lorn has been anything but co-operative and she wasn't aboard the Highlander, she was commanding her own vessel at the time."

I look back at Lorn and her face drains of color as she realizes that all this time she has not been protected by McAllister's deal with me. She glances from McAllister and back to me then breaks eye contact. I am tempted once more to use this opportunity to settle my grudge, but it would be no fun at all if the fight has gone out of her.

I'm done toying with McAllister and Lorn. That is not why I came here. I think I should wait for the bed-wetter to calm down and Lorn to work herself back up if I am to really enjoy myself. I need to find something else to play with.

I turn back to the group and grab the redhead by the arm and toss her to Yoi.

"Find out if these spots are contagious." I tell him.

His look of surprise is hilarious. "Really, Sir?"

"That's an order."

He leads her out gently by the arm but as soon as they enter the corridor I hear the sounds of a struggle and Yoi curses loudly.

"She bites, too." Cossak tells me.

"Is that so?" I raise an eyebrow questioning how he knows this.

"It's in my report." He says and suddenly I think I understand.

"Should we warn him, you think?" I ask.

"Nhg, let him learn the hard way." He shakes his head and we both laugh a little.

I am about to select the dark haired girl I first saw when I entered and but when I turn to look at her again I see something quite unexpected. Another girl with chin length dark hair is hiding behind her. She is looking down trying not to be seen. There is something about the tilt of her chin and the shape of her face that is very familiar, like I've seen her before.

Suddenly I know what it is. I look from the girl to McAllister and back again. She is considerably taller and her eyes are a different color, but other than that the resemblance is the amazing. This girl could be McAllister thirty years ago. I found what I've been looking for, this is the precious cargo that the old lady was trying to protect.

"That one." I say to Cossak gesturing to the girl and her head snaps up in surprise. As Cossak attaches a collar on the girl and leads her out I look back over at McAllister. Her face has gone gray and she closes her eyes and covers her mouth with her hand. I think see a tear slide down her cheek. Now I've got my pound of flesh.

**Glossary:**

**Ullan:** a type of steeped hot beverage made from dried crushed berries of the ulla tree. Contains a chemical similar to caffeine or ephedra.

**Emeires:** prescription pain relief medicine.

**Keshi**: vulgar pejorative for female genitalia

**Sulak:** pejorative for someone who is very sensitive to pain or stress. Trans. loosely to Terran 'weakling' or 'crybaby.'

**Khiori'haeserh**: traditional meal of seven different types of meat, including, if available, the heart and liver of the enemy, celebrating victory and honoring the goddess Khiori.

**Sakhet'saya:** Bloodwine. A traditional alcoholic beverage served at ceremonial meals; three parts of a high proof liquor base similar to port wine in flavor and one part the fresh blood of sacrificial offerings or prisoners of war is added.

**Tal'shallat:** a stomach virus that causes severe cramps and nausea. Also an insult for a difficult person.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 9**

A/N: This chapter contains trigger material with description of sexual assault and NC-17 content. Reader discretion is very strongly advised.

I head back to my quarters thrilled that I have found McAllister's daughter. I'm sure she would have been upset about any member of her crew being selected for my personal enjoyment, but this is an especially devastating blow. Considering all that the old woman has done to me I feel particularly justified in this revenge. That her daughter is one I would have selected for myself anyway is a wonderful bonus.

Once I get there I see that my valet has set out a decanter of _saya_ with two goblets in the receiving room. I guess it pays to be prepared, but somehow I don't think the young lady will want to sit down for a drink. I pick up the decanter and glasses and bring them to my bedroom and change out of my formal black tunic and high necked button down. It has become uncomfortably tight in the shoulders and back because I had no other outlet for my energy than exercise for the last six months. I think I will have to get a new one since my other set has also become much too small. Now that I'm in my sleeveless under tunic I can finally move freely, I stretch my arms and untie my hair. After pouring myself a glass I sit down at my desk in my and put my boots up and wait for my valet to return with the girl.

She is being prepared for me right now. Cossak has taken her to bathe and a fresh change of clothes. She probably doesn't realize how lucky she is, but these are luxuries she is getting only because I have chosen her. Her companions who are not so genetically blessed will not receive the same treatment.

I pour myself a second glass and my comm chimes. It's my valet requesting entry to my bedroom. I open the door and he comes in with the girl. She is wearing a loose sleeveless dress made of fine raw silk with a red braid along the neckline signifying to the crew that she is mine alone. My valet removes her wrist shackles and bows as he leaves.

The girl doesn't even look at me. She stands at parade rest with that thousand yard stare that gets drilled into cadets during training. Some things are the same everywhere.

I set the glass on the desk and swing my feet down and stand up. She still doesn't look, although I know she is taking in every last detail. I walk up to her and stare her up and down. Nothing. No reaction. I circle her and see that her hair is freshly washed and still a little damp in the back. It has a slight wave to it and the way it falls frames her face perfectly. Still no reaction. I think I like this game.

I come up behind her, very close. So close that I can feel the fabric of her dress brush against me. She is like a statue. I lean over and rub my nose in her hair inhaling her scent and she flinches a little. Ah, I win!

I walk in front of her again and I see that her stoic mask is faltering and her eyes are downcast, hiding her expression.

"I will never submit to you." She says and somehow manages to look up through her eyelashes and down her nose at me at the same time. Oh, she is her mother's daughter alright.

I place my hands gently on her shoulders and lean over breathing softly in her ear. She startles at the heat of my touch and the feel of my moist warm breath as she realizes I am not the cold blooded reptile she has been told I am.

"Yes, you will." I whisper and I see chill bumps rise on her skin.

"No!" she hisses jerking out of my grip. She glares at me and tosses her head like a spirited _favi._ The movement causes her hair to fall across her face giving her a very sultry look and drawing my attention to her full lips. I'm sure this was not her intention because her eyes are so full of hate that if looks could kill I'd be dead before I hit the floor. Intentional or not, the effect on me is the same. I reach for her to draw her close but she shies away avoiding my grasp.

"Come here. Now." I say with a beckoning gesture.

She shakes her head and backs up slowly her eyes darting quickly around my suite. I can see that she is trying to find some way to escape, or to distract me. There is not the slightest chance of that happening. I'm certain she knows her actions will only slightly delay the inevitable. Resisting will only make this harder on her and I'm sure she knows this as well. Perhaps her pride is over-riding the sensible voice of self preservation that should be urging her to passivity?

So, she wants me to force her? I think smiling to myself. To take what I want so she doesn't have to feel the shame of giving it? The idea is thrilling. I'm a Crown Prince and I've never had a woman resist me. Not really. Certainly I've played games with the few slaves made available to me in my father's harem. And any palace servant that caught my eye wouldn't dream of refusing me. Then there is the feigned reluctance of the pseudo-virgins in the finer houses of recreation that men of my standing frequent. They put up enough of a struggle to make it interesting but are far too well trained in their craft to make it believable. But this, this will be different. The fight the lovely ensign gives me will be as real as her screams.

She tilts her chin up in a defiant gesture. Her insolent expression and proud head carriage irritate me. Suddenly I am as impatient as I was when waiting to board the Highlander. The pent up frustration of the last several days is becoming impossible to contain. I think of Si'ila dying needlessly at the hands of an Alliance soldier too cowardly to stand and fight and I remember the promise I made over his cooling body. I will be satisfied with nothing less than the enemy begging to kneel at my feet.

There must have been a change in my expression because I see her eyes widen in alarm. I grab her as she tries to evade me again, but I am too fast for her. My fingers close around her wrist and I yank her to me. I had planned to twist her arm behind her and force her to the bed, but she struggles with me.

Oh, the fight she puts up! She is absolutely no match for me. None at all. But the Alliance's hand to hand combat instructors have convinced her otherwise.

She attempts to strike me with her free hand and feet but I easily evade her. The few blows she does land either miss their mark or are not forceful enough to hurt me. I can't help but laugh at her attempts at grappling. She twists around pressing her back to me and her free hand finds its way into my hair and she jerks it, managing to turn my head to the side. I feel her throw her weight into the motion and try to pull me down. She has a good technique, and a firm grasp of the basics. But she is utterly lacking the strength and the skill to over-balance someone of my size. Nor do I think she has any idea what to do if she actually manages to get me to the ground. For my own amusement I add my weight to the momentum and we both go down. Before she can react I roll over and pin her to the floor. I don't think it was the result she had planned and the shocked look on her face makes me laugh even more.

"Get off of me you asshole!" She shouts, writhing trying to escape my weight. All it does is press her body against mine in a way that feels very good against my erection.

"No." I reply and grind my hips into her. She responds with curses and more delicious struggling.

I pull her arms over her head and use one hand to pin them there. With the other I brush her hair out of her face and stroke down the side of her cheek letting my fingers come to rest lightly around her throat. She stills and I feel her labored breathing and rapidly beating pulse flutter under my palm. She meets my stare boldly and I'm slightly taken aback. I'm not used to humans who consider themselves my equal. But I am not opposed to putting them in their place. Clearly this girl does not understand _who_ I am or _what_ she is now.

I feel the delicate structure of her trachea move as she swallows and I think I could kill her right now if I chose to. I can do whatever I want to her. For as long as I want and leave her in whatever condition I see fit. There would be no repercussions, no lectures from my father's steward or greedy madams to impose surcharges. She is my property and she has been since the moment I set foot on the Highlander. And I'm tired of waiting to possess what is mine.

I shift my weight off her slightly and rise partially to one knee. I grab the neckline of the plain silk shift and start tearing it off of her exposing her breasts.

"No! No! Don't! " She screams and struggles fiercely. Her panic has made her strong and she manages to get her left hand free and deliver a stinging slap across my cheek. I'm not expecting it and it snaps my head sideways.

"Bitch!" I curse as I taste blood in mouth and my temper flares dangerously.

She tries to scramble away but I pull her back by the arm I still have a hold of and throw a leg over hers to keep her still. As I'm trying to grab her free hand she tries to hit me again, this time with a closed fist. I block it and grab her wrist and twist it hard. She yelps in pain and I increase the pressure of my grip. She goes completely still.

"Ah! S-stop! You're hurting me!" She gasps through clenched teeth.

"I know." I say and give it another sharp twist then let go of her arm abruptly when she cries out. She narrows her eyes in rage and she balls her hand into another fist and draws her arm back.

"Go ahead. Do it again." I say softy looking down at her. She swallows audibly and unclenches her fist. I watch as her pupils dilate in fear and her fingertips start to tremble as she realizes for the first time how completely helpless she is. I grab her hand and she doesn't resist as I pin it back over her head and finish ripping the garment from her body.

I settle into a more secure position and pull back a bit to admire her. I am very pleasantly surprised. She has smooth creamy skin and although her breasts are smaller than I prefer, they are firm and well shaped with dusky pink nipples. Her months of athletic conditioning during training are evident as well. Her limbs are lean and shapely with sculpted muscles. Her stomach is toned and I see the slight ridges of her abdominal muscles. It forms a gently sloping line from the bottom of her rib cage to her navel and then dips concave between the arches of her pelvis to the swell of her pubic bone. She is shaved clean and there is a hint of pink peeking out of the slit of her _keshu._ My cock throbs at the sight.

I look back to her face and she has her head turned away from me and her eyes tightly shut. If she thinks that I'm just going to fuck her while she lays on her back and thinks of her duty and sacrifice for the Alliance she is very much mistaken.

I stroke my fingertips down the side of her face and along her jaw line then trail my fingers down her neck to her collar bone and move lower and cup her breast in my hand. I feel her flinch as I play with her nipple between my thumb and fore finger. As I watch it deepens in color and becomes erect. I lower my head to her other breast and draw her nipple into my mouth sucking deeply, feeling it pucker and become firm as well. I catch it between my teeth and swirl my tongue around it.

She makes a small sound and I look back up at her. She is still turned away and her expression is unchanged but her breath is coming faster and two bright spots of color are on her cheeks. I can tell by her scent that although she is terrified and does not want this her body has other ideas. That is what is so wonderful about human females, their biology always betrays them.

I move over to suck on the other breast and stroke my hand down the length of her body enjoying the silky feel of her skin and the way she trembles at my touch. I pause briefly at narrow part of her waist before moving across her body to her navel. I slide my fingers lower and stroke the smooth flesh of her _keshu_ lips. This gets a reaction out of her. She whimpers and bucks her hips and tries to jerk away but this only presses her harder against my hand causing my fingers to slip inside her where she is warm and very soft but not yet moist.

I spread her open with two fingers and stroke the length of her slit up and down. Finding the entrance of her vagina I probe it with my middle finger and I try to slide it inside her but she is tight. So marvelously tight I think she might be a virgin. I continue pressing until I get past the second knuckle and realize to my disappointment that she is not. I slide it out and find her clit and begin stroking it in light circular motions. Her legs twitch and she stifles a moan as I increase the pressure.

"Stop it! I don't like that." She sobs squirming.

I raise my head from her breast and move over her. I kiss the side of her neck and behind her ear and I see the chill bumps rise again on her skin and whisper in her ear. "Little liar, I can feel how wet you're getting." I slide my finger back into her, thrusting it in and out and use my thumb on her clit and I feel her body stiffen. "I suppose you don't like that either?" I ask her laughing as her breathing becomes labored and she arches her back.

"No! No I don't! Stop!" She cries out as I slip a second finger in her vagina searching for the second pleasure point. I find it and press upward. She gasps with every thrust of my fingers and then I feel a sudden surge of wetness as her muscles tighten around them. She is panting and staring up at the ceiling, her eyes are wet with tears and I watch as one runs slowly down her cheek to her earlobe.

"You are a rutting animal!" she says, turning to me glaring.

"So are you." I retort and withdraw my fingers from her and hold them up for her to see. They are glistening and she flushes in humiliation as I lick them. "You taste like honey." I rub them across her lips and she tries to turn her head away but I grab her hair and hold her still. I lean over to kiss her mouth and as I press my lips to hers she bites me. It does not have the effect she desires. Instead of pulling away I lean into it groaning, enjoying the hard pinch of her flat little teeth on my bottom lip. She realizes her mistake and releases me. I hear her muffled scream as I bite her back and my canines pierce her skin. I indulge in the sweet coppery taste of her blood for a moment before I let her go.

"Oh, you little cock tease! I knew you'd come around!" I say as I unfasten my trousers and use my knees to spread her legs apart. She tries to resist by trying to thrash her hips out of position and her legs end up over my thighs. Again I use my size and weight to my advantage and lean over her pushing her knees back and spreading her completely open. All her struggling has done is made it easier for me. I pull my cock out and stroke it a few times and use the head to push apart the lips of her _keshu_ and start to guide it in the tight entrance. I am surprised at how resistant she is and how much force I have to use to penetrate her. She panics and becomes hysterical.

"No! No! Stop! Please! It hurts! God it hurts!" she screams and sobs at the same time. Her body convulses and I have to let go of her wrists and grip her biceps with both hands to hold her still. I grit my teeth and push harder and I'm finally inside her. She is so tight. Unimaginably tight. Even more than a virgin. And it feels so good because she is wet too. I am glad I took the time to get her ready. I stay still for a moment just enjoying the sensation. Then I start to move inside her and she screams again but it doesn't deter me.

"Ah, you're so tight! Do you know how good you feel?" I groan and push into her. It is still hard for me to move and she is so small that I can't get all the way inside and I feel the head of my cock pressing against her cervix. She is crying, making small mewling sounds. Her body is rigid and I feel the tension of it in her arms as I hold her down. It is obvious that this is as painful for her as it is pleasurable for me.

"Relax, relax." I whisper to her. "You're only hurting yourself…Ah, that's better." I feel her body give a little and I increase the pace and depth of my thrusts. Her small perfect breasts bounce in rhythm with me and she is biting her lip to keep from screaming. It is bleeding again. Her eyes overflow with tears and they course down her cheeks and mix with her blood. I lean over and kiss her tasting the salty sweet mixture. Suddenly I feel close to climaxing. I don't want to. Not yet. I want to take my time but the vice like grip of her muscles and the smell of her blood and sex are proving too much for me. I feel my control slipping and just give in. She shrieks as I fuck her hard and for some reason the sound excites me. A moment later I'm coming and after a few more thrusts I collapse forward over her, resting on my elbows.

As my breathing slows I become aware of my surroundings. She lies underneath me, very still. Too still. For a moment I'm alarmed and then I feel her soft breath on my shoulder. I look down at her wet face and she blinks a few times and her sightless stares starts to focus back at me. I relax. I'm glad that she is still conscious. Because I'm not finished with her.

I pull out of her, lean back and I'm surprised at what I see. Although she was not a virgin, she has bled like one. I grab the torn scrap of silk that was her dress and use it to wipe off my cock. I look her over as I refasten my trousers and she hasn't moved. She is lying motionless and stares at the ceiling but I can tell that she is alert.

I feel foolish because I have no idea what to do now. I stare at the blood on the cloth and on the inside of her thighs and I think it's oddly appropriate. There is a first time for everything. I gently reach between her thighs and clean her up and she flinches at my touch.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" She whispers raggedly, not looking at me.

"Get up." I tell her getting to my feet and tossing the stained cloth into the corner. My valet will clean it up later.

She tries to stand but her legs are shaking so badly I'm forced to hold her by the arm to steady her.

"Can you walk?" I ask and she nods. "Good. Get on the bed."

She stares at me in horror. "What? Didn't you already get what you want?"

"No. Not even close." I say and her knees buckle. I catch her before she hits the floor and carry her over to it.

It has been several hours and I have had her at least half a dozen times but true satisfaction eludes me. I have had no trouble enjoying her in the moment and reaching orgasm. I am young and I have plenty of stamina so that is not it. She has stopped responding to me. She just lays there glassy eyed, letting me do what ever I want to her and occasionally crying out when it hurts her. It would seem that she has become completely submissive but that is not the case. I am bigger and stronger and all I have done is physically over power her. The fight has not left her she just passively resists me by doing exactly what I swore I wouldn't let her do.

I lay next to her tracing my fingers over the small red and bluish marks my teeth and fingers have left on her breasts and I feel myself getting hard again. I roll over and position myself between her legs and stroke her there with my fingers. She is swollen and sticky and she hisses with a sharp intake of breath when I start to push into her once more.

"Please, please don't. It hurts…I can't take anymore." She says looking at me for the first time in hours.

I back off at the word 'please.' She hasn't begged since I had her that first time on the floor. My cock is still pressed against her and I rock my hips slightly and she whimpers.

"Please, no. It hurts. Can't we do something else? Please?" She asks and I see the desperation in her eyes.

"Like what?" I ask. I know damn well what she means but I want to hear her say it. I caress my thumb over her bottom lip and she opens her mouth and I feel her tongue sweep across it. She parts her lips and draws it into her mouth and sucks on it a little, swirling her tongue on the tip of it with a firm pressure that lets me know that she's done this before.

I reach over her head and untie her wrists from the ring that has been embedded in the headboard for occasions such as this. "What is it you want to do?" I ask her again. She opens her mouth to say something then falls silent. I kiss her and for he first time she kisses me back parting her lips for my tongue and caressing it with her own. I pull away. "Go ahead, ask me."

She hesitates and I start to push into her again and she stiffens and says haltingly, "Can we—can I have you in my mouth?"

For a moment I don't say anything as if I'm considering her request.

She swallows and then adds "Please?"

It's enough. I nod and move off her and stand up by the edge of the bed. She slides off and sinks to her knees and I feel the moist warmth of her lips close around me. I put my hands on her head and tilt it back a bit and push until I feel the back of her throat. Looking down, I watch how the light moves on her hair with the bobbing motion of her head. I smile as I think of how she walked into this room carrying herself like a queen and now she's kneeling at my feet, sucking my cock like a very accomplished whore. A soft moan escapes me and I close my eyes as at last I feel the sense of satisfaction that has been missing from this evening's entertainment.

**Glossary:**

**Saya: **Fortified wine similar to Terran port wine but with a higher alcohol content.

**Favi**: large four legged horned, cloven hooved animal used for primarily for riding. It is known for its rebellious and willful temperament. Two varieties: a one horned that originated in forest ecosystems and a two horned from mountain regions. Ranges in color from pure white to dark bay and occasionally black. Similar in size to the Terran moose.

**A/N**_**:**__ When I researched for this chapter I came across the published personal journals of women who were victimized in the Bosnian/ Serbian conflict, Darfur, Congo, as well as women who were pressed into sexual slavery, disturbingly known as 'comfort women', by the Japanese in WWII. Additionally I researched the psychology of the perpetrators of sex crimes. It had a profound influence on my perspective._

_I tried to write this chapter in a way so that the reader would understand that rape is an act of brutality and a perversion of the act of sex. It is a crime of power not passion. There was no attempt or intent to titillate. I hope that, at times, it was as hard to read as it was to write._


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comics and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way.**

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 10**

"All of it." I tell her and using the fistful of her hair that I have hold of I tilt her face up to me so I can watch. She swallows and I release her and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and hangs her head. I walk over to my desk and pour myself a glass of wine and look back over at her. She is still kneeling where I have left her waiting for my next command.

I have broken her in and she will be much more compliant in the future. The idea pleases me greatly because she has already displayed a great deal of talent when she chooses to cooperate. As I set the decanter on the table I see the second glass and think that it would be rude not to offer her some. She must be thirsty after all this time and exertion. I guess it came in handy after all.

I walk back over to her and offer her the glass and she takes it with both hands drinking deeply. She grimaces at the strong taste but drinks more, this time a little slower.

"What is this?" She asks softy. I notice that she won't look at me and she keeps her face turned down and away.

"_Saya._ It's a type of wine." I answer.

"Oh." She still will not look at me and she squirms uncomfortably. I suppose she needs to relive herself and would like to attend her other hygiene needs. I'm a little perplexed because I don't know the word the humans have for this.

"Do you need to attend yourself?" I ask awkwardly. She nods and starts to get up then hesitates because I haven't given her permission. "Come." I tell her and show her where the lavatory is.

I give her some privacy for a moment then I go in to check on her when I hear water running. She is trying to get the bath to work. She gasps and turns around quickly in surprise and looks around guiltily when she sees me. I reach around her and flip the switch that sends the water to the shower head. I adjust the temperature and motion for her to get in. She steps into the shower trying to avoid contact and cringes a little when her shoulder brushes against my chest.

As the water cascades downs her body I notice the livid bruises that she has for the first time. They stand out sharply against her fair skin which was flawless when she was brought to me. Her arms have dark purple marks as do her inner thighs. Her bottom lip is swollen and there is a cut on it from where I bit her. She looks bad, like I had beaten her purposefully. I wonder how the rest of the women have fared with my crew who, in spite of my orders, will not have been as patient as I was. I think of how their value may have been affected and I am concerned. None of them had better be disfigured or worse. I make a mental note to check with my medical staff in the morning and have them examine the women and treat them for any injuries.

She turns around and I see that her back is bruised as well. She probably got them when I pinned her to the floor. I tried not to use more strength than I needed to. I shake my head, if she had just submitted from the start none of this would have happened.

She finishes rinsing off and I turn off the water and toss her a bath sheet. She dries herself and wraps the cloth around her body tightly. I'm suddenly reminded that she has nothing to wear. Her dress is ruined, tossed in a corner on the floor. I see the look on her face and see that she is thinking the same thing. I can't send her out naked. Especially not when she has pleased me so well. I pick up my robe from its hook on the wall and look at it then back at her. It's much too large. I put it on and walk back to the sleeping area and see my button down tunic lying on a chair and I remember the too small one in the closet. I get it and go back to the bath and hand it to her.

"Put this on." I say and she takes it looking at me questioningly then drops her eyes. I nod and smile a little. "Go ahead."

"Thank you." She says and shrugs into the shirt and then lets the towel drop. It amuses me to see how large it is on her. The shoulder seams come nearly down to her elbows and the hem reaches her knees. She is wearing far more than when she came in here. I leave her rolling up the sleeves and call my valet to come get her.

When he arrives I tell him to bring her to McAllister's cell. I think they will benefit from each other's company. He fastens the restraints on her and I kiss her once more before he leads her away.

I check the time as I stretch out on my bed. It's later than I thought. I have to report to the bridge in less than four hours. As I'm about to fall asleep my comm chimes. I'm tempted to ignore it, but I can't. I'm the commander. I reach over and grab it off the nightstand and check the signature. It's Cossak.

"Sincline here." I say stifling a yawn.

"Sir, we've got a problem with McAlister." He tells me.

"Oh? What is it now?" I ask groggily.

There's a slight pause before he answers. "She's dead."

I'm wide awake now and I sit up quickly. "She's what? How?" My first thought is that she's killed herself. Perhaps she made a noose out of her clothes and hung herself? Or found a way to open a vein? Prisoners can show a great deal of ingenuity about these things.

"I don't know. We just checked on her an hour ago and she was fine. Looked like she was praying. When we checked again she was lying on the floor dead." He explains.

"She didn't do this to herself?" I ask.

"Doesn't look like it to me. Maybe she had some poison hidden on her in case she was captured." He answers thinking of how Supremacy regulations require commanders and high security clearance personnel to ingest poison hidden in a tooth if captured rather than face interrogation. "She's still in there. Do you want me to have medical get her and do a post mortem? Other wise I was just going to send her out with the next dump."

"Oh, shit." I curse thinking of the bruised girl on her way down to the correction deck. The image of that young woman walking into the cell and seeing her mother dead on the floor disturbs me greatly. I recall how she couldn't raise her eyes to meet mine and the ugly marks on her body. I don't know why I should care, but it seems unnecessarily cruel for me to allow that to happen. She has been through enough.

"Sir?"

"Tell medical to get McAlister out of there immediately and tell them I want the post mortem done. When my valet gets there with the prisoner put her in with Lorn. Whatever you do don't let her see McAlister." I order.

"Yes, sir. Understood, Sir." He says and I end the communication.

I lay back down thinking that Lorn's temper will benefit from seeing her comrade's worse for wear condition. I can tell that she's the type that will become emboldened by her anger and that is what I want. I picture the ensign's bruises and think how much better they will look on Lorn.

After a short while I get a call that McAlister is in the morgue and that her daughter has been secured without incident. I smile as I finally can drift off to sleep, thinking that it might mean more reports to write but at least I don't have to worry about the old lady causing me any more problems.

The next shift on the bridge confirms to me that my efforts to raise morale have worked. In spite of getting little or no sleep my crew and I are in high spirits. As I am going through the previous crew's reports Yoi shows up uncharacteristically late for his shift. I swivel around in my chair to reprimand him but the words die in my throat as I see he has a nasty black eye.

"Apologies for my lateness, Sir. It won't happen again." He says bracing to attention at the doorway waiting for me to give him permission to enter.

"Assume your post." I nod and watch him walk to his station. The entire bridge crew is staring as well.

After a moment he looks up and notices everyone looking at him. His swollen eye in particular. "I think she likes me." He says grinning sheepishly. This gets a round of laughter and head shakes from everyone including me.

"Yoi?" I say to him.

"Yes, sir?"

"What about those spots? Are they contagious?" I ask.

"No sir! They're not!" He says and pushes his sleeve back showing his unblemished forearm.

"Did you check your dick?" My navigation officer asks glancing up from his consol. The room erupts with laughter. Morale has definitely improved.

"Return to duty, all of you." I say with mock seriousness trying to maintain decorum on the bridge.

We fall back into our established routine. I receive the reports from the Highlander and aside from some crew reporting to medical for minor injuries caused from overindulgence there is nothing out of the ordinary. My Second has sent over all of the Highlander's archived logs and I plan to review them once I am off the bridge. They are encrypted and I have assigned Yoi the task of translating them. I still have my official report to write that I will need to turn in to my superiors as well as to Captain Quarq. I begin to assemble the information.

I lost six of mine when we boarded the Highlander. Si'ila, Sal'jeen, Jaen and Mei'er from my fire team alone. One kill lost two, Rosha and Leark. And there were two others that are injured so badly that they will have to be sent back to base to treat their injuries. They will most likely be discharged or at best be assigned a desk somewhere. After knowing the thrill and glory of battle it will be a bitter medicine. But they have served with honor and courage and that will be rewarded by the Supremacy.

Starting with Sil'ila's, I cue up the personnel files. What I find takes me a little aback. He's from Korrinoth. I had not been aware that there were other Korronites aboard aside from my Second. So, in addition to being one of my crew he was also my own subject. He gave his life not just for his commander but also for his future king. My chest tightens at the thought. It's hard to explain but any leader has an almost paternal feeling toward those they lead. Any good one, that is. And although he had taken a oath to protect the Supremacy, the Ninth Kingdom and the crown with his own life if need be, as his commander and Prince I have taken one as well to look after and protect my people. His fulfillment of his promise means that I have failed at mine. I will send word to my father of this and ask that Si'ila's family receive recognition for their son's sacrifice. It is the least I can do. I also make a mental note to check the files for any others on board who may be citizens of the Ninth Kingdom.

"Sir? There's something showing on the scanners." My navigator advises me.

"Put it on screen." I order.

It's a sizable squadron of Alliance vessels well inside our territory. They are too far to catch us before we reach our escort and will likely be over taken by the additional ships that have been sent to patrol the boarder. But it seems that the cease fire is over. This incident has definitely put a damper on any negotiations between the Supremacy and the Alliance.

I hail the Khans Khiori and advise them of the Alliance vessels in our territory.

I retire to my office to continue my reports and as I'm reviewing the Highlander's most recent logs I see something that makes my blood run cold. The ship was indeed on a transport mission. She was under armed and nearly all of her cannon and fighters were disabled. Additionally it shows that they had made a distress call and thought that we were responding to it. _Oh, shit!_ I think as I picture the visual of Alliance warships entering our space after Throk and Zeppo have spent months securing that boarder with negotiations. For lack of a better description, I'm fucked. I will be lucky if all I am is incarcerated and I have a sinking feeling in my stomach similar to when the g-cylinder failed.

Quarq hails me from the Khans Khoiri on a secure line for an update on the Alliance ships.

"Sincline, I don't think I need to tell you that everybody and I mean _everybody _from the Viceroy Throk to Emperor Bhorn is demanding answers." He says.

I swallow deeply. "Yes, Sir. I imagine they are, sir. As am I." I answer a nonchalantly as I'm able.

"Oh, well, what have you got so far? Any reason that carrier was in out territory?" He asks.

"The captain swore they were on a transport mission, but I don't believe her." I answer, knowing better than to divulge what I have just learned. If I did there's a good chance Quarq would have me relieved of duty and confined to quarters immediately.

"Her? It's a woman?" He asks.

"Yes, Sir. Named McAlister." I say.

"What? McAlister? No, it's impossible!" He exclaims.

"Um, what's impossible, sir?"

"Small, tiny woman? Dark hair?" He asks a little excited. "Older, perhaps?"

"Yes, sir." I say and quickly scan through the logs to find her full name. "Captain Cynthia McAlister." I'm confused at this sudden interest in the old lady. I cue up a holo of her that was in her personnel file on the visual. I'm surprised when he laughs.

"Unbelievable! Fucking unbelievable! Boy! Do you know who that is?" He asks joyfully.

"Um, no sir. Should I?"

"Yes, yes, you should. That's the Rakh'orhe." He answers leaning into the visual.

"What? Who? Rakh'orhe? That scrawny old bitch? Sir, I think there's a mistake." I say in disbelief. I may not have recognized the name McAlister, but I know the name Rakh'orhe.

I learned about her my first year at the Academy. In those early years after first contact the humans seemed to fall as easily as another species we came across. For awhile anyway, then they somehow began pirating our technology. Their ships matched ours and they began taking back what they had lost. Humans by and large are opportunistic, dirty fighters, without honor or dignity. But one Captain stood out from the rest. They didn't take slaves or prisoners. When taking a warship they would kill the entire crew. No survivors. Not even those that had surrendered. One that took a perverse pleasure in the killing. Often taking trophies like ears, scalps and sometimes teeth. It became a sort of signature. We gave that Captain the name Rakh'orhe.

"Oh, no that's her, alright. You know, I don't care why you attacked that ship, but I think bringing McAlister to justice might have just saved your ass." He says thinking to reassure me. I'm still a little dumbfounded. Then I remember her amusement at our cautious approach when we first encountered her on the bridge. I thought she had been teasing when she said her reputation preceded her.

"Yes, Sir." I reply uncertain what else I can say.

"If that's the Rakh'orhe then I doubt they were on some transport mission. To be honest, I can't believe she's still alive."

"Oh, no sir! She's not alive anymore." I inform him.

He laughs out loud. "Oh, Sincline! I can't wait to read this report. I'm going to forward this new information to Command and that should get them to stand down." He signs off.

I look back at the ship's logs. Rakh'orhe or not it was still a transport mission. Maybe capturing and bringing McAlister down will be enough to keep me from being sanctioned too severely. Maybe her brutality will still be fresh in the minds of those who witnessed it and now will decide my fate. Maybe the capture of this ship will not rally an Alliance armada to our boarders. Maybe, I should have let her run.

**Glossary:**

**Rakh'orhe-** Mythical demon that is the goddess Khoiri's nemisis. In folk lore he is a soldier who deserted his watch to be with a woman. His dereliction of duty caused his fellows to die. He was punished with eternal life without friends or companionship of any kind. Out of spite and jealousy he causes the death of one spouse just to cause the other a life of misery.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comics and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way.**

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 11**

I continue to read the Highlander's log, looking for some sign that McAlister was lying about her 'blunder bus.' At first glance there is none. All the information indicates that the ship was hastily refitted and on a troop transport mission. It says the jump drive went off line and caused them to pull out and accidentally drift across our borders when their main engines went off line.

Then I remember Yoi telling me that McAlister had told her guard that they were returning home for some holiday and that the g-cylinder was showing signs of destabilization. She told me they were boot cadets on being transferred to complete their training. So the old lady lied about that, so maybe she was lying about the rest of it. So which is it? Where they going to a base or were they going home? And where were they coming from?

As I begin to trace the records back my communications officers hails me from the bridge.

"Sir, there's an incoming communication from Korrinoth. From his Majesty, King Zarkon, your father." He says. I groan and look at the log and take a deep breath. I have no idea what he has heard about this fiasco and I don't want to find out. Not just yet. I have enough to worry about without him making it worse.

"Tell him I'm unavailable. " I answer. Probably the best thing about being on deployment is that he can't summon me at will anymore. If he wants to berate me for my stupidity he will simply have to wait.

"Yes, sir." He answers. I've done this before and I know my father will not be happy about being refused. Instead of calming down he will only think of more things to be angry about.

I return back to the log and continue my search for any information that will confirm that the Highlander was on some sort of military mission. I decide to check her cargo manifest and my hopes are further diminished. It lists heavy equipment used for farming and construction. Building materials, electronic components, pipes for irrigation and the like. All the things that that are typically needed by colonists. It certainly explains the extra tonnage that I had to account for when calibrating the tractor beam. Not only was this a transport ship it was also a supply ship, bringing much needed equipment to some fledgling colony. This does not look good.

I close out of the Highlander's logs and open my own. I might as well get started on my official report of the battle and get that out of the way before I resume my detective work. I push the nagging doubts I have about the Highlander to the back of my mind and begin reading the reports turned in from my fire teams.

As I'm finishing up my official report of the taking of the Highlander the intercom to my office buzzes. It's Yoi. He has something he'd like to speak to me about in person. I wonder if it's about the girl.

"Enter." I say and the door slides soundlessly open. He comes in and stands at attention. "At ease, ensign. Sit down." I say and gesture to a chair in front of my desk. He removes his helmet places it on his knee and sits with his back straight not touching the chair. He is the model of Supremacy discipline.

"Sir, I have come to tell you that I have been derelict in my duty." He says with stiff formality.

"Oh? If this is about the girl, I'm sure it's nothing that medical can't fix." I say. After his actions during the actual battle, his efforts to over-ride the Highlander's system during the g-cylinder collapse and his unwavering loyalty I can't imagine what he might be talking about.

"Sir, I'm afraid that I—"he sighs and pauses looking for what to say.

"Afraid that you what?" I ask.

"Sir, it's the Highlander's logs. I don't think I finished translating them." He says. I can hear the frustration in his tone.

"What do you mean you don't think you finished? They're right here! I've just spent two hours reading them."

"Sir, they are incomplete. There's more but I just can't get to it." He explains.

"Again, Ensign, what do you mean?"

"There's a ghost code under the original encryption. I wasn't able to break it." He says.

"Yet you gave it to me as complete?" I ask, now I'm getting angry. I have just wasted valuable hours of my time.

"Yes, Sir. I did. At first I didn't think anything of it. It's common for logs to be written over, especially when a ship has been refitted. But after I went back over to check it again after I sent it to you, I couldn't decipher it. That's very unusual. If it was normal I would have been able to access all of the old logs going back from the time the ship was put into service. But I can't. The only one that's available is this one. Something's not right about this, sir." He tells me. He is maintaining his bearing but I can tell he's nervous.

" Nhg! Why didn't you tell me this immediately?" I ask raising my voice.

"Because—because—" He begins and falters.

"Because why?" I demand. He hesitates and I lose my temper. "Answer me!" I shout.

"Because I thought that if I kept working on it I could break it , Sir. But I couldn't." He says. "She wiped it clean, sir, and I don't know how."

I glare at him. Not sure of what to say now. He should have told me from the beginning what the problem was. But he is here now and his new information adds to my suspicions about the Highlander's real mission. I'm already thinking how to turn this back to my advantage. Perhaps command's investigation will be able to break it. But what if it's more of the same mundane transport duty? Knowing what I know of McAlister, I wouldn't put it past her to have written an equally innocuous mission under this one. She had plenty of time to do so while we fought to take the ship.

"Ensign Yoi, you do understand that there is right now an investigation being assembled on this matter that will affect the careers and lives of everyone on board this ship?" I ask. It is all I can do to keep from berating him as if I were my father. The word 'imbecile' is on the tip of my tongue, but I have the self control to hold it there.

"Yes, sir I do." He answers flatly.

"Then what do you mean by coming here and telling me that you cannot perform your duty?" I ask. "Do you have no solution to offer me?"

"Sir, McAlister did this. If she could be persuaded to—" He begins.

I groan and rub my forehead. My hope that the old woman would cause me no more problems was in vain. "That's impossible." I snap. "She's dead."

Yoi's mouth drops open in surprise, then he quickly recovers. " Sir, I respectfully request more time to work on the ships logs." He asks.

"You're sure you can do this?" I ask.

"Yes, Sir. I'll figure something out." He answers with determination.

I don't want to do it, but I have no choice. "Alright. But remember Command is breathing down my neck about this. I need to give them answers, not explanations of why my crew and I are incompetent."

"Yes, Sir. Understood, Sir." He answers. I give him back the logs and dismiss him. He stands at attention and braces his arm over his chest in salute turns smartly and leaves.

I am very disappointed in him at the moment. However, I know that he feels responsible for failing at his duty. A lesser man would have never brought it to my attention and for that I must give him credit. I have faith that as crafty as McAlister was, Yoi and I will be able to out wit her.

After he leaves I open the reports of the teams I sent to inventory the Highlander's cargo holds to see if there is any useful information in them. At first it seems normal, exactly what I expect to find on a vessel such as this, but something stands out. There's no mention of the farming equipment listed in McAlister's official manifest. Instead there is a significant amount of military equipment on board. Enough to arm an entire ground division. There are also inter-stellar fighters. They are in storage, and inoperable at this time, but the numbers are significant. As I continue to look there are weapons, ammunition and body armor for far more than the personnel that were aboard. I think I have found the proof that this ship and her crew were engaged in more nefarious pursuits than McAlister had claimed. If she has made this error surely she has made another. I just need to find it.

I re-open the suspect log and re-read it with a critical eye, looking for any discrepancies. There are literally hundreds of entries for this mission and it will take me hours to sort through them.

I feel the start of another headache and reach into my desk drawer for medication.

It is well past dinner and I am still at my desk finishing the last of my other administrative duties when my intercom buzzes. Yoi has returned. I give him permission to enter. I see the look on his face is grim but resolute.

"Sir, I think I've solved the problem." He says.

"You were able to decipher the code to the original log?" I ask.

"No, sir. I was not." He answers.

"Then what the fuck are you doing here telling me you've fixed this?" I growl.

"I did, sir."

"If you didn't decipher the log, what did you do?" I ask exasperated. This situation is hopeless. I'm already calculating how long my prison sentence will be.

"I rewrote it, sir." He answers.

"You did what?" I ask dumbfounded, staring at him, incredulous at his audacity. I can't believe that he would dare to do something as underhanded as this. It is dishonorable. It is treason. It is punishable by death. I could slit his throat for even suggesting it to me. Only a complete fool would try to get away with it. And there lies its brilliance. No one would ever suspect that the Highlander's logs were fabricated. I can't believe I didn't think of it first.

"Let me see." I say and gesture for him to hand over the cards. I down load them and as I read I see some things that will need to be edited, but he has done a good job of recreating the mendacity of a daily log. I re-read the 'new' mission statement and nod my approval. He has written that the Highlander was collecting reconnaissance of our boarder defenses on her way to drop off reinforcements, munitions and other military supplies to Minos, an Alliance base that was supposed to be evacuating per terms of the cease fire. The ship was then to be fully rearmed once there and remain as security if we tried to enforce the agreement.

Minos was originally a thinly populated moon in the Arein system, but had been captured by the humans. It is rich in lazon and metal ore and in a very strategic location. It would be conceivable that the humans would try to keep it in spite of the agreement. It is also lies right in between our boarders, in a sort of buffer zone between our territories, which explains why the Highlander was over here in the first place. It may not be what McAlister was actually doing out here, but I suspect that it's much closer to the truth than what she had claimed.

It seems like a good plan. Almost foolproof, except that there will be a thorough investigation. If this deception is discovered the ramifications to my entire crew would be enormous and devastating. Career ending and resulting in dishonorable discharges that would make them little better than criminals. I don't even want to think of what will happen to me. Not even my status as a Prince of the Empire will save me. The worst case scenario would be to be sent back to my father, who would likely disown me publicly and cast me into The Pit of Skulls. If I'm lucky I'll just be stripped of all rank, title and property and exiled.

"This is good. But will it hold up to scrutiny? Command is going to have forensics picking this apart bit by bit. What if they get to the original code? Or figure out that it's not Alliance in origin?" I ask.

"They won't Sir, I worked in forensics. I used to decipher Alliance code all day long. I know their patterns and what forensics will be looking for. I was able to get into the old system since they didn't completely replace the computers and was able to pull up most of the old logs from when she was a warship. I changed the dates to make it look like the current log. I left the one McAlister wrote the top so it looks like a sloppy cover up on her part. Then I purged the old system of data." He answers with a certainty that reassures me.

"And even if they do suspect something, it will create enough questions that this, combined with my report will sway any call for disciplinary action in our favor…" I muse out loud. I will have to spend hours going over them and correcting some things just to make it more authentic, but I'm certain that this is a good plan.

"That's exactly what I thought, sir." He says.

"Well done, Yoi." I say to him as I have said so many times already. I look back over the logs he has written and gain confidence. At the end of the day the facts will remain that an Alliance warship, captained by one of their most brutal and notorious commanders had entered our territory with a cargo hold full of military supplies and personnel. And these facts beg the much larger question of what was such a vessel doing anywhere near our territory in the first place. I'm certain that this ruse will work. It has to.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comics and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way.**

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 12**

I dismiss Yoi and start on reading and editing the logs he wrote. I'm very impressed with the ruse he has devised and his knowledge of the enemy. I will have to remember to ask how he came up with it, but right now I have to finish this. It will be a long night and even though I desperately crave sleep and my head is pounding, I know better. We will be rendezvousing with the Khans Khiori Nehru in forty nine hours and I can not hope that Quarq will wait that long for my preliminary report. He has been extremely patient with me as it is and I'm sure he has Command breathing down his neck as well. This situation is a slowly burning time bomb for both sides. I am sure that the Alliance has already been rattling their sabers at us again at the very least. I take another dose of _emeires _and call for my valet to brew me a pot of _ullan._ I push all thoughts of failure out of my mind and will myself to focus on the task at hand.

Morning, or what passes for morning in deep space, has come and I am greeted by an urgent transmission from the Khans Khiori updating us that Alliance war ships have crossed beyond the DMZ and all vessels in the quadrant are now on full alert. The fragile peace has been broken and we are at war again because of what I have done. I expel a deep breath and bury my face in my hands. I have no doubt that they are coming for us. I am limping two broken ships across space and even with an armed escort we would be ripe for the taking. I insert my key to my console and enter the code that upgrades our status. The shipboard lighting changes immediately to red as the low whistling tone sounds throughout the ship.

"Attention all hands! This is your Commander speaking. We are at Condition _Galra_. Repeat Condition _Galra._ Report to general quarters." I issue the order that will send my entire crew scrambling to ready the ship for combat once more. I wonder how they will react to the news that yet again I have put their lives in danger. And not just theirs, but those of every ship in this quadrant, perhaps the entire Supremacy's navy. I swallow a lump in my throat and close out of the Highlander's doctored logs and change into my combat uniform and head to the bridge.

I am somewhat mollified by the smart salutes and quickly spoken greetings of "Good morning Sir!" and "It's a fine day Sir!" My crew say to me as they rush by me to ready themselves and the ship against attack. They are war fighters. They are trained for battle, not for the tedium of janitorial and maintenance duties that encompass the majority of their time afloat. It is what they live for and I as their commander must see that they stay that way. Alive. We are still in danger and I will not lose anymore of those in my command. I already could face several charges of murder if the investigation proves I was negligent or reckless with those who serve under me.

"As you were." I say as I enter the bridge and my crew moves to stand. No sooner do I sit at my command console than an update of where and how fast the Alliance vessels are is cued up on my screen.

My stomach feels as though it has dropped to my feet as I see the four Viper Class star cruisers that had scarcely reached the boarders of our territory less than 36 hours ago in battle formation vectoring to intercept us. And they are closing fast. It is a physical impossibility for them to have traveled such a vast distance so quickly. Absolutely impossible. Either they were already here illegally or the enemy has some new and dangerously fast propulsion systems in use.

"Unfucking believable" I mumble under my breath. The dull ache in my head twitches into a stabbing pain. "Is there any word from our escort? What is their ETA?" I ask my communications officer.

"No Sir." He says.

"Get them and find out their ETA. And get me Captain Quarq on the Khans Khoiri. "

"Yes, Sir." He answers and sends out his messages.

I order all remaining fighters to full alert and a full systems check of our remaining ordnance. With what we have we won't last long and there is no chance at all for us to out run them. Only the hope of the Alliance wanting to secure the release of their prisoners will keep us from being blown to pieces once we are in range of their missiles.

"Sir, I have visual on the Alliance vessels." My communications officer tells me.

"On screen." I order If they catch us there is nothing I can do but order all of my crew to a suicide mission or a humiliating surrender and imprisonment. The bridge is silent as everyone watching the screen comes to the same conclusion.

Yoi finally breaks the silence. "Sir, it is a fine sight on a fine day, Sir." There are a few growls of approval.

"Ngh! A fine day, Sir." My navigation officer agrees.

I am so proud of them at this moment that my throat constricts tightly and I have to swallow hard to loosen it enough to speak. And I am proud of myself as well. This is what it means to lead. They are MY crew now. They are as loyal to me and each other as they are to their own Kingdoms and the Supremacy and as willing to lay down their lives for this mission and any others I may assign. I stare at the four star cruisers and I feel the same rush of adrenaline that I did when we encountered the Highlander and it makes me smile. If they catch us it will be their bad luck.

As I am reviewing my options my communications officer finally has contact with the Khans Khiori.

"Sir, I have Captain Quarq. He requests a secure line." He tells me.

"Reply 'understood' and ask him to stand by. Link him to my office. Ensign Yoi, you have the bridge." I order. I don't like leaving the bridge with my vessel under full alert with enemy ships approaching. But I am sure that Quarq knows our situation and he would not request the extra security if it were not absolutely necessary. I reach my office and he is waiting impatiently on the screen.

"Sincline, you have got yourself into quite a shit storm." He says.

"Yes, Sir, I believe you are right. But I need to know when that escort will get here-" I begin.

"Oh, it's not coming." He answers flippantly.

"What? " I ask incredulously. "But we'll never—" He cuts me off and starts laughing.

"Oh, this is priceless!" He shakes his head and looks at the screen again and guffaws with renewed enthusiasm. I am so furious that it is all I can do not to strike his image on the screen. "Relax, _hnafir'rau_, relax…they were reassigned to intercept that approaching squadron of warships coming to blow your ass up. We've got another on its way. " He tells me, still chuckling.

"With all do respect Sir, this is no laughing matter!" I reply indignant at his mockery.

"Oh, you'd think otherwise if you could see your face right now." He assures me.

I am truly speechless. "Sir, I must protest-but… I-my crew…Why wasn't I informed of this?" I finally stammer out.

"Because no one wanted you to get any more stupid ideas than you already have." He replies. "If you thought you could take down a Remington Class cruiser with just your one patrol ship, command was very concerned about the shit you'd try to pull if you knew a battalion was on its way." He answers.

I am truly chagrined and I feel my face grow hot with humility. "Yes, Sir, understood." I am also perplexed. A battalion? For four star cruisers? "But, Sir…a whole battalion?"

"Those four Alliance cruisers did not arrive there by magic, Sincline. They sure as hell didn't use that jump port you blew up. And neither did the Highlander. None of our scanners or probes showed any record of Alliance vessels coming through that port for months. They were hiding somewhere in our territory to begin with or they have some radical new advance in jump or propulsion technology that we were unaware of when our leadership began those… ill advised negotiations with them." He explains. "Where ever those four came from you can bet there's more." He says with certainty. "In any case, Commander, your new escort will contact you shortly. They should be sending you an exact ETA within the hour." He says and ends the communication abruptly.

While I am relieved that such an enormous force has been rallied to my aid and that it seems that there is more evidence that will justify my actions, I am very surprised that he would feel so confident to express such a negative opinion about the cease fire negotiations, even on a secure channel.

I break out in a cold sweat. Growing up in my father's court I am no stranger to the hidden implications of conversations such as this. That Quarq would be so bold as to disapprove openly of Zeppo's and Throk's politics can only mean one thing. The power struggle within the Council is coming to a head over this incident and lines are being drawn on either side. That someone has ordered an entire battalion out here because of me means that I will be expected to pick one of them. To which one of those _Dai'Ahkhsu _sitting on that council will I owe my life? I'm sure that's what my father was calling to scream at me about. I feel nauseous and I'm glad I'm sitting down. Oh, _Hira,_ what have I got myself, my crew and the Ninth Kingdom into?

**Glossary:**

**Dai' Ahkhsu**: literal translation: Noble war person. Its meaning is similar to 'War master' or 'Warlord' in Terran, but is an elite ruling class among the Drule. It is most notable because it is the only social class that a person can not be born into.

**Emeires:** prescription pain relief medicine.

**Galra: **Home planet of the First Kingdom and also the capital city of Korrinoth. Used in this context as a military code word for critical conditions.

**Hira: **the goddess of mercy and improbable luck. She is also said to be the protector of drunks and clumsy people.

**Hnafir'rau**: noun, adj. Insult literally meaning wet-nose.

**Ullan:** a type of steeped hot beverage made from dried crushed berries of the ulla tree. Contains a chemical similar to caffeine or ephedrine.

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	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 13**

I take several deep breaths and recover my bearing before I return to the bridge. The door swishes open and I step through. "As you were." I say before my crew can even begin to stand. I return to my console and go over the updated information and say nothing, only dimly aware of the snippets of conversation I overhear from my crew as they do their jobs.

It seems that my ship and crew are out of immediate danger and that should bring me some relief but I struggle to subdue my growing dread over the escalating political situation. There is nothing I can do about it now. It has literally been taken out of my hands. My only orders are to await my escort and bring my ship and salvage to port where we will be dry docked for assessment and repairs. That it is all completely beyond my control is what is driving me to distraction. There is no worse feeling than to be helpless against fate.

I forward a sanitized copy of our orders to my Second on the Highlander to keep him in the loop. He sends me an update on their status. There has been another attempted rebellion from the humans with significant loss of life. Including four more of my crew. I curse and strike my console drawing surprised and nervous glances from my crew. I glare at them and they turn away and quickly return to their duties. I feel my temper rise and force myself to maintain control. I know that I must find a way to vent this frustration soon.

I access my personal files and begin reading the Highlander's logs once again. Both Yoi and I have been very thorough, but I need to do something. Or at least feel like I'm doing something to influence events. As if I haven't done enough already, I think glumly. After a moment I close out of the logs. Reading them yet again isn't helping.

"Sir! We have an incoming message from the _Jhe'ghin." _My communications officer says.

"Go ahead." I order and a very welcome sight appears on the visual.

"Rhiann' Ansue, I am commander Erteien from the _Jhe'ghin._ We are here to offer you safe escort to the Khans Khiori Nehru. Please advise us of any further assistance you need." He says. Something like a wave of relief sweeps through the bridge.

"Commander Erteien, I am commander Sincline of the Rihan Annsu. We are glad to see you. Please assume formation at your leisure." I reply.

There is a minor flurry of activity as our escort settles into place around us. I am relieved that he asked permission and put himself at our service. After reading our orders and my conversation with Quarg, I would not have been at all surprised if Erteien had assumed command of the mission from this point forward. It is a good sign the situation may not be not as bad as I believe. I feel the knot in my stomach relax a little.

It is absurdly hard to adjust to the sudden quiet of this new phase of our mission. We have an estimated thirty eight hours until we reach our destination. And I have three days of reports to write. The 'editing,' for lack of a non-incriminating word, of the Highlander's logs have taken a great deal of the time I should have used to complete my required duties. It will raise suspicions and garner a reprimand if my own work is not available for review. I have already done enough to make my superiors question my competence. Not having routine paperwork in order when I report to command will make me look like more of a fool than destroying half my ship.

I decide to use this down time to finish my reports. I order a recheck of all systems. Once I am secure that they are stable and functioning at normal capacity I turn command over to my navigator as he is the senior officer on the bridge and retire to my office.

I open my files and look for the least boring of them to begin with. I have the cargo manifests of the Highlander, the cargo manifests of the Rhian Annsu, the battle reports from my fire teams, the ship's daily log to update and my account of the battle with the Highlander to finish. Not to mention the casualty and deceased lists and letters to write. I take a deep breath and move that file to the priority column.

In the past I had lead men into combat and to their deaths. But I too had been ordered into combat, possibly to my own death. I was following my own commander's orders. And as it was his command and his order so he wrote the letters. He told the mothers the baby they nursed and taught to walk would never eat at their table again. He told the fathers that their name and legacy died on some barren moon, alien city or in the cold black emptiness of space. But this is different. Now it is my turn to find the words that will comfort the grieving and honor the dead. And I simply don't have any. Not right now.

But I open the casualty reports anyway. Two from OneKill. Galen. Zayn. There are four from my own fireteam, Firesword. Jaen. Mei'er. Sal'jeen. Si'ila.

I stare at the names and I can see their faces as they were just before we boarded the Highlander. Young, strong and eager. Jaen was one of those that flinched in the catwalk and I feel a sharp stab of guilt for thinking him a coward. I exhale heavily and rest my head in my hands for a moment, then close out of the casualty logs. I cannot afford the luxury of maudlin self-recriminations. If I wish to honor my fallen I must make sure that this mission was not the foolish mistake of a _hnafir'rau _commander. I must find McAllister's secret, because that is where victory lay.

I open the files for the ships logs and begin recounting the battle from the moment we saw the Highlander. There are several things that don't make sense. McAllister's behavior on the bridge is one of them. Now that I am reviewing the events, it is a fact that it would have been impossible for us to override the system. And she knew it. And if, as she said, the Highlander was a troop transport ship now, there was no reason for her to have set the ship to self destruct. There has to be some other reason. And false manifests hiding a cargo hold full of disassembled military equipment are not it.

I keep thinking of what Quarg told me about the appearance of Alliance warships in our territory without the use of the jump port. It is perplexing because the Highlander was so close to the port. I had assumed that she had used it to enter…but perhaps she was planning to use it to leave. If so how did she get there? How long had they been in our territory? And why was there no radiation signature from her engines?

I wish I could have my engineering crew go aboard the Highlander and inspect her jump drive but I need them here to keep us going. Then I remember that we have Highlander's engineering crew on board and Yoi has become quite familiar with one of them. I wonder if she has told him anything thing she shouldn't have. I call Yoi at his position on the bridge and tell him that I'd like to see him at the end of his shift.

I few hours later, after I finish my log updates, my First Officer hails me to say that Quarg's battalion has made contact with the enemy. It seems like a good time to check in on my crew and to take a short break. I leave my desk and return to the bridge.

The holoscreens aboard the ship are broadcasting the battle in real time and my crew is transfixed as though they are watching an arena battle. I should reprimand them and order them to get back to work, but it would be useless. After what they have been through, what with the battle they have just fought is still so fresh in their minds they would not be able to focus, so I let them watch. I use the excuse that we should monitor the situation in case the Alliance should somehow emerge victorious and come after us. Which is not at all likely. They are being blown to pieces.

Battles in space are far less spectacular than they are on planet. Without oxygen or atmosphere the explosions are far less dramatic and the shipboard fires extinguish as soon as they reach space. But watching the ships spiral out of control and break apart is still very entertaining when it is the enemy.

We continue to pulverize them and it almost seems to me that our commanders are dragging it out for effect. Throughout the ship I can hear my entire crew cheer every time we make a hit. It certainly is a moral booster. Clearly the Alliance did not expect to encounter such a force or they would have sent more vessels. Or perhaps not come at all.

But right near the end, just as it appears the last two Alliance ships are going to be overtaken something alarming happens. A swirling vortex of light…it's not even really light, it's just a brighter, shiny black, opens up in the middle of space and swallows both Alliance vessels and one of our cruisers that had tethered to one of them and was preparing to board. There is a sort of wobbling like ripples on water and then…nothing. The area just congeals back into empty space with some remnants of debris floating around it. I have never seen anything like it. Not in reality or in my theoretical physics classes at the academy. And neither has my crew.

The bridge goes silent and we look at each other in disbelief as we all try to make sense of what we just saw.

"What just happened?" My navigator asks no one in particular.

"I have no fucking idea." I answer, but I'm absolutely certain that the answer can be found aboard the Highlander.

**Glossary:**

Hnafir'rau: Insult. Literal translation; wet nose.

Jhe'ghin: A type of raptor found in the deserts of the home planet of the Fifth kingdom. Smaller members of the species are used by the nobility to hunt.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

Rites of Passage

Chapter 14

I feel like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over me. If my eyes and my ship's sensors are to be believed I have witnessed the impossible…the formation and collapse of a wormhole. After centuries of research they were thought to be the stuff of fairytales. Their nearest equivalent was the tunnels kept stable by the jump ports. They were thought to be naturally occurring thin spots in the membranes of this space time and had been already in use for millennia by the Wyverns. And the ports and tunnels themselves pre-dated the Wyvern. Who created them no one remembered, or ever knew.

Once, the Wyverns were our overlords, but when their civilization concluded its inevitable decline we ascended to our rightful place as the dominant beings in the galaxy. All we did was maintain the ports, because without them the tunnels would collapse or become unstable, leading not just to who knows where in space, but more dangerously to who knows when.

Even so, they were not the instant light speed connection to any point in the galaxy or universe so popular in fiction. A journey from one end of the Supremacy to another would require multiple jumps through multiple ports and still take several years. Long, but nevertheless a vast improvement from the centuries that conventional space travel, even at near light speed, would take.

That the Alliance now has the ability to circumvent the laws of time and space means that the Supremacy's position as the master race is in jeopardy. The implications of what they could do with such technology fills me with dread. As does the idea of being subject to humanity's idea of peaceful co-existence. Our only hope is that they do not have not enough ships refitted to create a significant threat…yet.

I take a deep breath as I remember the battle I have just watched, and I'm slightly reassured. While they may have higher mobility, they still aren't worth shit in a fire fight. Two of their cruisers were destroyed. That's two less to worry about. The Highlander's propulsion failed and left her practically adrift and ripe for the taking. Whatever this new device is, it seems the Alliance, with their typical impatience has not yet fully mastered it before trying to put it to use. Their tendency to over reach may yet be their downfall.

I tell my communications officer to contact the _Jhe' ghin _but I belay the order to take my Second's incoming hail from the Highlander.

"On screen." I say.

"Rihan Annsu, did you just see what we saw?" He asks.

"This is Commander Sincline and we did." I answer. Before he can reply we are hailed by Commander Erteien

"Rihan Annsu and Highlander, do you have any idea what's going on?"

"Negative." I answer.

"Is it possible for you to increase your velocity?" He asks. It is obvious that he'd like to get out of open space and back to base as soon as possible.

I am of the same mindset and I mentally calculate if my ship can handle the increased load. It might be possible, but I need to check with propulsions and engineering.

"I need to verify." I reply.

"Understood, _Jhe'ghin,_ out." He answers.

I call down to propulsion and engineering and order another check of our systems. They report that our fuel cells are lower than expected as we have not been able to shut down our main engine and allow them to recharge. And the fuselage is showing signs of stress around the tractor beam turret. Any faster and we might not get to the Khans Khiori at all.

I send an updated situation report encoded to the Khans Khiori with our ETA and turn the bridge back over to my navigator and retire to my office. In spite of all that has occurred I still have work to finish and I need to document what I saw in the logs while it is still fresh in my mind. Once in my office I send my reply to the _Jhe'ghin's_ commander via a secure line. I can tell that it is not what Erteien wants to hear, but I remind him that we have two thousand human prisoners as hostage and only twenty seven more nerve racking hours to go.

Twenty seven more hours. I growl in frustration. I hadn't realized so much time had passed. As I dig in the mountain of administrative duties I notice I have been sent a new file. It is McAllister's autopsy report. McAllister. Just the thought of her sends a stabbing pain through my temples. So, now I know why she stayed aboard to see that the ship was destroyed. It was only when her child's life was in the balance that she faltered in her duty.

I stare at it for a moment before opening it to see the cause of death. A blood clot had traveled through one of her arteries and reached her heart causing it to stop. I guess the meds didn't watch the dosage close enough. I'd like to think that the grief of my taking her daughter also had something to do with it. I close out of the file with a hard poke of my finger. She lucky she's dead. The _Rakh'orhe_ will cause no more misery.

My office door chimes and I'm startled out of my thoughts. "Enter!" I call out and the door opens and Yoi walks through it and braces at attention.

"Sir? You wanted to see me?" He asks.

"Ah, yes. I was wondering if the engineer had said anything about the Highlander while you were with her?" I ask.

He looks confused for a moment, "The engineer?"

I scowl at him in irritation "Yes, red hair, spots? Hits people?" I say and point at his fading black eye.

"Oh! Her!" He answers smiling.

"Yes, her." I shake my head a little in exasperation.

"Oh yes, sir! A lot! What Megan told me helped me piece together the Highlander's log."

I frown in confusion. "Megan? Is that her name?" I ask. A meghon is a type of rodent on Korrinoth with a very pointy nose and pungent musk glands.

"Yes, terrible isn't it?" He says shaking his head in agreement.

"Indeed." The things humans choose to call their children. "Exactly what did she tell you?"

"Um, she told me that the Highlander was being used as a transport vessel; just delivering supplies and personnel. They had just stopped at Minos and picked up the military equipment in the hold. Then they were on their way back to the Sappir System. She had hoped to be with her family for some Terran solstice festival next month." He answers.

"The Sappir System? From here?" I ask. "That doesn't make any sense. It would take them half a year to get there from here."

He pauses as he considers what I said. "You're right, sir. I don't know why I didn't catch on to that."

"I know exactly why you didn't." I scold him and he looks down sheepishly. To be honest, I'm actually impressed that he had gotten that much information out of the girl. I think of my evening with McAllister's daughter and realize I don't even know her name. "Yoi, how did it go with her?" I ask bluntly.

He looks startled. "Um, how did it go?" He glances around for a moment and then says, "I guess it was the usual way…or ways…" He trails off clearly embarrassed.

I laugh, "That's not what I'm asking. How did you get her to trust you?"

He pauses for a moment, "Um, well, I guess she didn't have any other choice. She was kicking and scratching the whole way back to my cabin. Really putting up a fight. She tried to bite me…to make me let go… and I was about to knock her out, but we ran into Tarek and Rhea. They tried to take her but I pulled rank on them. They had some other prisoners in the barracks already and we could hear them screaming. I guess that scared her so I told her that she had to calm down and do what I said or I wouldn't be able to protect her. After that she was fine." He explains.

"I see…" How simple, I think. Just one small act of kindness in the middle of all the fear and uncertainty was all it took. And I have to admit, from the girl's perspective, Yoi is a much safer option than Tarek and his barrack mates.

"Do you think you could get her to tell me about the…" I pause, I don't even know what to call it, "the new jump technology they're using?"

He nods. "I think so. She seemed to be a bit discouraged about Alliance command as well."

"Good. I'll have her sent up from detention." I say and as I reach for my comm to call Cossack Yoi stops me.

"Um, Sir, uh, she's not in detention. I left her in my cabin." He stammers.

"What? She's where?!"

"My cabin, Sir. She's restrained. My bunkmates are onboard the High—"

I hold up my hand to silence him. "Yoi, you're lucky you're so damn good at your job. I should have you flogged." I say again incredulous at his audacity. "Go get her and bring her here."

Yes, Sir." He says and braces to attention before he turns smartly and leaves. I shake my head as the door swishes shut and in spite of myself self I smile. Yoi does nothing by half measure; he even breaks the rules to the best of his ability.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 15**

While I'm waiting for him to return I wonder about the rest of my prisoners. If Yoi has one, and he had heard others in the barracks…then, there must be more. I issue an order to security that at the start of the next shift there will be a sweep of the ship to make sure that no prisoners are outside the detention area. Anyone found with an unauthorized 'visitor' will be dealt with severely. This is unacceptable, we are at war and I need my crew focused and at the ready. Not distracted by human _keshi._

My door chimes again. It is Yoi with the girl. They enter and to my surprise as Yoi comes to attention she sinks to the floor and kneels with her eyes cast down like slave. I had expected her to stand at parade rest and stare off into space like McAllister's daughter did. Yoi must have coached her, but it's remarkable that she obeys without a trace of belligerence. I must say I'm a more than a little impressed.

I regard the girl closely, noticing a telltale bruise on her bottom lip and light marks around her neck. Yoi must have had quite a night with her. Nights, I correct myself. I also notice that she's clean. Her hair looks freshly washed and so does her uniform. Such a trivial thing, basic hygiene, normally taken for granted is now a luxury that I'm sure has encouraged her compliance.

"At ease." I tell Yoi and he relaxes into parade rest. "Does she know why she's here?" I ask him in Imperial.

"Yes, sir. I told her that you wanted to ask her about the Highlander so that you could make a case to support your bargain with McAllister." He answers.

Clever Yoi. I had forgotten that McAllister had told her crew that when she surrendered. If the girl thinks that she is helping her crewmates she will be much more likely to tell me what I need to know.

"What is your name?" I ask her.

She hesitates for a moment and glances up at Yoi for guidance. "You may speak." He says. Remarkable!

"Ensign Megan Perry, First Class. Service Number-"

"I don't need all that formality." I interrupt her. I think that I shall use kindness instead of intimidation. It seems to have worked well for Yoi. "This is not an interrogation." Not an official one that is. If it had been, it would have started with immersion into very cold water followed by a series of electric shocks. And then the questions would begin.

"I just want to ask you some questions….Megan? Am I correct?" I ask, confirming that this awful word is really her name. She nods slightly so I continue. "Your captain said that the Highlander was on a transport mission when the ship's engines failed. My superiors think that the Alliance has deliberately violated our territory." I pause a moment and regard her, she is trying hide her fear but her rapid shallow breathing gives her away. "I think there has been a terrible…misunderstanding. What do you think, Megan?"

She nods again. "I-I think you're right, Sir." She leans in closer to Yoi and I can tell that she really has no idea what to think anymore. The trauma of the last few days has left her desperate and she clings to whatever hope of safety there is. She wants to give the right answers but she doesn't know what they are so she has to rely on the truth.

"So, you're an engineer?" I ask.

"Yes." She speaks softy and she still hasn't taken her eyes off the floor. I notice that Yoi is looking at her and he appears just as nervous as she is.

"So am I. I studied mechanical engineering before I was granted my commission." I admit. She glances up in surprise and her eyes meet mine for split second and then she realizes her mistake and quickly looks down.

"Your captain drives a hard bargain, Megan. She's put me in quite a situation. Did you know she made me promise that you will all be ransomed? If I am to maintain my own honor I must convince my superiors that the Highlander's violation of our boarders is not an act of aggression or espionage. If I can't, then my oath is worthless." This is only somewhat true. The recent developments have changed the entire situation. Even if the Highlander's presence in our territory was accidental, the battle I have just watched was not. It seems the Alliance insincere when they made their truce with us. They didn't even try to negotiate for the return of their ship and crew before they attacked. And an oath to liar is no oath all. I stand up from my desk and walk around to stand in front of her so now she is looking at my boots. "So, Megan, what happened? How did your ship end up here?"

"We fell out of jump, sir." She answers and presses her lips together as if she is stopping herself from saying more.

And I know why, that answer makes no sense. A ship can't 'fall out of jump.' Once you are in tunnel, you can't get out because the port, a large rotating ring, is what holds the entrances and exits stable. The tunnels themselves have a current, so to speak. Even if a ship was to lose power completely they would be pushed along, albeit slowly, until they reached the nearest port. Sometimes very slowly. Salvage companies have been known to make a good business collecting long abandoned ghost ships that suddenly emerge powerless and adrift from the tunnels, their long dead crews still within them. We call them coffin ships.

"So, the Highlander became disabled in the tunnel?" I ask. It's a test. I already know that no Alliance ship has used that port.

She hesitates before she answers. "No."

"No? So how did you fall out of jump, then?"

"I don't know." She answers, her voice trembling. She is clearly terrified and on the verge of tears. She shrinks back against Yoi's leg for support.

I glance back at Yoi and I see a single bead of sweat forming on his brow. Interesting. Perhaps he's worried that the girl's information may prove disappointing or that I may still be angry about his unauthorized use of her.

"You don't know? I thought you worked in engineering?" I ask sharply. She's still trying to avoid the question. I have to apply a little more pressure to get her to talk.

I switch back to Imperial. "Yoi, leave us." He salutes and turns to leave. She wobbles slightly as the leg she was leaning on is no longer there. I don't know what horrors she believes Yoi has the authority to save her from but just as he reaches the doorway she breaks. Just the idea of being alone with me has driven her over the edge. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.

"I don't know! I really don't. I worked in life support. Propulsions was totally off limits for everybody without proper clearance after they refit her with the new stuff." She blurts out.

""Wait." I call to Yoi who halts and turns about face.

"New stuff? What do you mean?" I ask.

She looks over at Yoi gratefully before she answers, "I don't know much about it. It's some new upgraded jump engine that doesn't use tunnels."

"So did something happen to it?" I ask and gesture for Yoi to come back. She is visibly relieved.

"Yeah, it broke and dumped us twenty light minutes from here. We used all of our cells trying to make to this port and get out of here before we were spotted." She says. I hear the anger and frustration creeping into her tone. This must be the discontent Yoi had mentioned.

"Where were you going?" Yoi has told me she said the Sappir system. I'm testing her again.

"We were a transport ship. We had just picked up the blunders-"

"The blunders?" I ask. I've never heard this word used in this context.

"The OCS grads…officer candidate school graduates. We call them ninety day blunders," She explains and I nod as I remember McAllister calling the Highlander a 'blunderbus' when I had her removed from the bridge. "We had them aboard for their first float and just got the load from Minos…. and were headed back for Caspia…when everything happened."

I nod, Caspia is in the Sappir System, but I don't recall there being a base there or any significant military presence. As far as I knew it was just another human colony.

"You didn't have to go back to Terra?" I press fishing for more information.

She is leaning back as close to Yoi as she can get and she shakes her head and says "No. I was supposed to go back home because I had leave, but after the drive failed…that wasn't going to happen."

"No? Why not?" I ask. I have an idea, but I need to confirm it. Caspia is in a remote part of Alliance territory, and as I pointed out to Yoi, conventional travel would take months. Her answer will tell me how integrated this new technology is in the Alliance fleet.

She hangs her head lower and doesn't answer right away. I hear her sniffle softly and a drop of wetness lands on the leg of her trousers. She begins to weep. I have my answer. It is not fully integrated, yet. There was no other ship she could take that was going back to Terra in time for her holiday. And I believe she is coming to realize that she will never return home.

"You said you were going back to Caspia? Is there a base there?" I ask.

She shakes her head again sniffs trying to compose herself enough to answer. "No, that's where the Highlander was going to be dry docked. This was her last voyage before she was being retired. She was refitted with the new drive engine there. She was the first ship fitted with jump technology back in the day when—"

"Back where? What do you mean?" I ask. My understanding of Terran colloquialisms is very outdated.

She pauses and looks at Yoi again and so do I. His bead of sweat has multiplied and has now become two trickles that are sliding down his hairline. He is not worried about her information, but about _her._ I was afraid of this. He has become protective of his little speckled pet.

"Uh…many years ago, the Highlander was the first ship fitted with jump tech…able to use the tunnels." She explains. "This was her first voyage with the new tech and she left port on the anniversary of that first, first one. It was supposed to be a real life tech-test and also some big symbolic…thing."

It takes me a moment to unravel her meaning and then I understand. The Highlander was the Alliance's first ship to be able to make jumps using the ports. And now she was the first to be able to make jumps without using ports. Except, ironically, she wasn't. They had refit her with this new technology and sent her on a routine mission for a symbolic inaugural voyage before decommissioning the ship.

What a blow I have struck the Alliance! If the Highlander simply had been lost in space-time it would have been a tragedy. That this very special ship is lost to the enemy has become a catastrophe.

"So, that's all this was? A routine transport mission, like McAllister told me?" I ask.

She nods. "I swear. It was just an around and back."

"I see. You have been very helpful, Megan. Not just to me but to your fellows." I tell her and I both she and Yoi visibly relax.

"Is that all, Sir?" Yoi asks.

"Mm..I believe so…" I start to say then change my mind. "Wait, just one more thing."

They both look at me expectantly.

"If there's not a base on Caspia, why was the Highlander going to be dry docked there?" I ask.

The girl frowns a moment before she answers. "I'm not really sure. Like I said, unless you had clearance, nobody talked to you about it. But I think it has something to do with some scientist that designed the drive. She defected from Altea a few years ago. It was all over the news before the government quashed it. The Alliance moved her there to get around the extradition treaty between Terra and Altea."

The girl says this so casually, but the impact of her words leaves me reeling. An Altean scientist has designed this new technology? Altea is one of Korrinoth's neighbors and until quite recently one of her closest allies. There was even talk that my father was negotiating a marriage for me to one of the king's daughters. But that was before he found out they were selling lazon to our enemies in the Fifth Kingdom. I must contact him as soon as possible.

"Oh, I see…how interesting. This has certainly cast a new light on things." I say after a moment.

Her information seems of little importance by itself. She has told me of a fairly routine transport mission and some publically known political scandal. But the location of where those drives are being developed is priceless. I don't even think she realized it slipped out. As is the knowledge that Altea may have some radical new technology that they cannot be allowed to develop. If they had it already, they wouldn't be so anxious to get this scientist back.

"Yoi, you are dismissed." I say. The sooner he leaves and she is put back in her place the better, I think. But to my surprise he does not turn smartly and leave as I expected.

"Sir, may I make a request?" Yoi asks switching back to Imperial.

I raise an eyebrow. It's worse than I thought. He must really be smitten. I am hoping that he was not going to ask me what I think he's going to ask. He has been invaluable to me in during this ordeal. If he had only asked me for anything else, I would grant it. But this is out of my control.

I'm going to have to put her back in with the others and then turn her over to command. Because she's an engineer with duties concerning the ship's functions she's considered a high value prisoner. She'll be separated out and sent for special questioning before being offered for sale. Probably at _Dai'athyra_. It's a shame, after being subjected to the abuses there she'll be practically worthless. That is, if she survives.

"Go ahead." I say.

"Sir, you have said that you will be sharing a portion of the salvage bounty with the crew." He begins.

"I did." I say dreading what's coming.

"I would respectfully ask, if I may, that this woman be my portion." He asks.

"Ensign, I don't think you—" I begin, but to my surprise, and in an act of complete insubordination, he interrupts me.

"I understand that she may be more valuable than my individual share, but I can arrange for payment—"

"Ensign Yoi!" I admonish him raising my voice and out of the corner of my eye I see the girl flinch. "You are too bold!"

He snaps to attention and says. "Apologies, Sir. I am out of my place."

"Yoi," I begin more gently. "That can't happen. I have to send her in with the others. It will be weeks before they are fully processed and assessed a value. And we both know that she's worth too much to Command, especially with what she knows of this ship." I explain.

"Sir, with all due respect, I can assure you there's no need for that. She knows nothing of this new jump drive. Whatever she knows you told you. " He says and I hear the edge in his voice. He already knows what's going to happen to her.

I regard him patiently. I study the girl for a moment, she's pale and as nervous and trembling as she was when Yoi was about to leave her here. She looks like a frightened child with her large eyes and tiny ears. Even I can't bring myself to wish her harm. I think of what he told me about stopping Tarek from taking her. He has claimed her and she clings to him as though he's Lith the Conquerer. No wonder he bonded with her so quickly. And even though I believe he is right…this girl probably knows next to nothing about this new technology, it's best that Yoi and girl be separated. She'd have him on the _qiuu rekku_ in a week.

I look from the girl to Yoi once more without speaking and Yoi uses my silence as an opportunity to continue.

"Sir, I know that command will want to—to question her because of her job, but perhaps we could—I could change the record of her occupational specialty? It wouldn't be hard and no one would know?" He reasons.

It is a sound argument. And he has done so much for me…surely, this one favor is not too much to ask. What is one small edit in the ship's personnel records that no one would ever even look for? Especially compared with the massive fraud we have already committed.

"No one would know." I repeat softy narrowing my eyes as I consider his suggestion. _'Except the girl.'_ The words spring into my mind unbidden in my father's voice so clearly that a chill runs down my spine. It's true, she knows everything. She was with Yoi in his quarters when he re-wrote the logs. She even supplied him with the information to do it so thoroughly. No wonder they are so believable! She must have helped him more than he admitted!

If she is sent to_ Dai'athyra_, those sadists there will delight in painfully ripping every memory she ever had out of her head. There is no way she can be sent there! Not if I am to keep our treachery a secret. But even if she stays with Yoi she still knows.

For some reason a warning my father gave me about the potent allure of human women comes to mind. '_Keep them either on their knees or flat on their backs. And never trust them; they will always betray you for their own kind.' _

I know better than to make this argument to Yoi. He would only promise that she would be loyal, which she may be…for a while. And one day, when Yoi has grown bored and replaced her, she will remember how she came to be in such a position and then neither he nor I will be safe.

I must assure her silence. There is only one thing to do.

"Yoi, I can't allow this. Ask me for something else. Another and she's yours. This is out of my hands now. You know damn well that Command will be pouring everything concerning the Highlander though an _enai kela_! We have enough altered records to be concerned with." I say and take a breath. "And I already have entered the repair of the Highlander's G-cylinder into the ship's log." I tell him with finality. There is no way, under these circumstances; I can erase anything from logs. It stands as written and any corrections must be made on a separate entry.

Yoi looks like he wants to grab the girl and run, but he knows I can't allow that.

"Yes, Sir. I see." He says, his dismay is palpable. "But, Sir? _Dai'athyra_? It's not right."

"It isn't. " In this I am in complete agreement, not only do I fear the consequences I also think that it would be a hellish fate to befall this hapless creature, who has done at least as much as Yoi has to assist me. "But what can we do?" I ask rhetorically, leading Yoi to the obvious solution.

"Sir, I gave her my word I would protect her if she obeyed. And she has." He says

"Then you must protect her, Yoi." I say carefully and see a muscle in jaw flex as he clenches his teeth.

"Yes, Sir." He answers flatly. He understands my meaning.

"Yoi, if you would rather I do this..." I offer, trying to spare him what I can.

"No, sir. I'll do it. But, thank you, Sir." He answers.

"It is settled." He tells her switching back to Trade. "You're not going to be sent back with the others."

She looks up at him and smiles a little in relief. He reaches down to where she has been obediently kneeling and strokes the top of her head gently for a moment and pushes her hair over her shoulder exposing the nape of her neck.

But then quickly, before even I can see him do it, he has loosed his knife from his utility belt and buried its lazon blade deep into the girl's neck, severing her spine from her skull completely. She dies instantly, still smiling, and falls forward limp on the ground, when Yoi releases her hair.

I expel the breath I didn't realize I was holding. It is as quick and clean a death as I have ever seen. And much more merciful than anything that would have befallen her had she lived to be sent to _Dai'athyra_. I doubt she even knew what happened.

I watch Yoi as he sheaths the blade without so much as a glance at the girl. He has obeyed me without question and satisfied his personal honor in an extraordinary fashion. But, for once I cannot bring myself to utter the words, "Well done, Yoi."

He braces his arm across his chest in salute and turns smartly and departs before I have given him leave to go.

**Dai' athyra**- Drule military prison infamous for its systematic use of excessive and creative torture to encourage compliance and extract information from prisoners.

**Enai kela**- phrase. Lit trans. "Tea strainer" It has a similar use as the Terran phrase "fine tooth comb." A very fine cloth, usually silk, tea strainer used to catch the tiny hairs on the dried leaves of the Enai plant so they don't become infused in the beverage. The tea is steeped and then poured through the silk several times to catch the hairs, which are known to cause digestive distress if ingested.

**Qiuu rekkai: adj. **_Lit trans:_Wrong Ended. Derogatory term for a master that has become physically or emotionally dependent on their slaves. Usually reserved for romantic attachments. It derives from the ornate leash that is affixed to the collar of a pleasure slave and held by their master when he or she accompanies them in public.

**Lith the Conquerer (**fictional character) A lone warrior from ancient Nemon seeking to restore his family's honor by going on various quests as demanded by the gods. He was first made popular in a book series then in numerous holofilms that became unintentionally humorous because of their excessively romantic overtones.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 16**

The door swishes shut and I am left alone in my office with the bleeding corpse of Yoi's engineer. She looks even smaller now that she is dead and a puddle of her blood is forming on my carpet, a dark, dull contrast to her still glorious auburn hair that is spread out next to it.

I have to finish my notes of the interrogation quickly before vital details have been forgotten, but there's no way I can focus. Not right now. The acrid smell of lazon, burnt hair and excrement are becoming overwhelming. Poor little Megan, like her unfortunate namesake, is starting to stink.

I call down to medical to have someone come get her, explaining that there has been a fatal incident with a prisoner during interrogation. She has already shown herself to be violent in the past there should be no trouble with anyone believing that she attempted one last stand against her captors resulting in her death. Not bothering to wait, I gather my data cards and transfer everything to my comm and head back to my stateroom to finish my report.

It has taken me little time to write the notes from the interrogation. It is the message to my father about what I have learned about the Altean scientist that has me stymied. Something tells me that this information is vital to the Ninth Kingdom's relationship with Altea. If they have the secret for this new jump technology then my father must be informed immediately. It is possible that the Alteans already have it in use unbeknownst to us. It would not be the first time they have been caught lying by omission.

I may have sworn an oath to the Supremacy when I was granted my commission, but the Ninth Kingdom will be mine one day and my true loyalty lay there. I have to figure out a way to send this message to my father so that it won't arouse any suspicions. I wish I could ask Yoi, but I dare not. He has already been burdened with enough secrets, and I don't want to end up owing too great a debt to my subordinate. Well, nothing that an extra commendation or two won't cover.

After a moment, I realize that this is useless. I give up and save what I have written encrypted under the message:

"_A message to Zarkon, King of the Ninth Kingdom, my Lord Father,_

_I regret that circumstances prevent me from responding to your communication request. Know that I will do so at the first possible opportunity._

_Foresworn by blood, in fealty and honor, Your Son & Loyal Subject,_

_Lotor, Crown Prince of Korrinoth. "_

I switch the holo screen and begin reading the daily reports and composing messages. I am so engrossed in my work that I am surprised when my valet informs me that it is time for dinner. He has laid out my mess dress uniform, but I decline. I am tired and I feel another headache coming on so I order him to bring my meal to my rooms. Normally, I would prefer to eat in the officer's dining room but I am still anxious about the outcome of this mission and am in no mood for making small talk with my junior officers tonight.

Just as I am undressing to take a shower my comm chimes. It's Cossack in detention. Lorn is causing problems again. She's agitating the other prisoners and she spit on one of her guards. He wants to know if it's alright to sedate and put a hood on her. Otherwise, he doesn't think he can guarantee her safety any longer.

I glance at my shower and I remember watching McAllister's daughter bathe and the dark bruises that marked her flesh. I did not mean for her to get them. And that makes me think of the engineer lying dead, bleeding out on my carpet. How unfair it is that those two compliant women have suffered so greatly, but that foul creature remains defiant and unscathed. I had said I would deal with her and it's time I did. I change back into my uniform and head down to the brig.

Once I am there I am greeted by Master Sergeant Cossack. He braces to attention when he sees me.

"Sir, what do you want us to do? Somehow, she figured out that we were under orders not to discipline her. And she tried to use a food tray as a weapon, so we shackled her. Then she complained that the shackles were too tight and she couldn't feel her hands anymore. So, the meds went in to look at her, and she spit on him." He explains shaking his head.

"And what did he do?" I ask.

"Eh, nothing really. He shoved her; she hit the wall, but it was really just a reflex—"

"I see." I'm impressed at how well Cossack maintains discipline down here. I would have expected a more violent reaction in spite of the fact they were under orders not to touch these women.

"Well, sir, what do want us to do with her? Can we put the hood on her?" He asks and just as he does I hear Lorn shouting from inside her cell.

"Hey, Princey! Is that you I hear?" Her shrill voice grates on my nerves. She caws like an irate _lun._

Cossack glares at the cell door. "How about a gag, too?" He asks.

"Ngh!" I growl, it's time that I put this bitch in her place. "No, I'll deal with her. Open the door." I order.

Cossack opens the door and I walk in with him behind me. I see Lorn shackled hand and foot in cell with three other women including McAlister's daughter and the pretty platinum blonde. I glance over at her, but she doesn't look at me and huddles closer to the wall with the others. Clearly the injuries suffered by McAllister's daughter have had an impact on all of them. Except Lorn. She stands apart glaring at me.

"Oh, it _is_ you, Princey!" She squawks tilting her chin up at arrogantly.

"Lorn, hush! " McAlister's daughter reprimands her.

And of course she ignores her, like I hoped she would.

"Have you come to pick out another woman to rape?" She asks sneering at me.

I laugh at her. Her accusation is baseless. Neither a slave nor a prisoner can be raped, they are chattel and do not possess any consent of their own to give. How ridiculous.

I approach her and stand close enough that she is forced to look up at me. "You have made yourself a nuisance to my crew. Abusing them and assaulting them all while you were under the privilege of my protection. That is very disrespectful, and I have come to teach you some manners." I say feeling my pulse quicken as I remember my first encounter with her on the catwalk when I was taking the Highlander. I almost died. Three of my crew did die. Oh, I am going to enjoy this.

I grab her by the wrist shackles and she tries to kick me, but she is tripped by the chains on her legs and she falls and curses at me.

"Don't touch me! You motherfucker!"

I haul her back up to her feet and tell her, laughing, " I'm going to enjoy that dirty mouth of yours."

Suddenly I hear McAllister's daughter call out "No! Don't!"

And then I feel warm spittle coat the side of my face. Before I'm even aware of it, my fist is swinging through the air and I hit her. Hard. It's a solid blow and I feel it connect with the side of her face. I didn't pull this punch. Not in the least. She drops to the floor like stone, unconscious. Behind me I hear Cossack laugh.

"Sir, I've wanted to do that for days." He comes and stands next to me and offers me a hygiene wipe from the dispenser outside the door.

"I'll bet." I answer wiping the spit off my face. I hear a sniffle and I see the blonde has her hands covering her mouth in shock. Her wide blue eyes are enormous with fear. But I notice she doesn't weep. She has finally become used to this.

"Um, should I call medical?" He asks casually.

"That would be a good idea." I answer looking at Lorn's inert form on the floor. Blood is starting to trickle from her nose.

"What should I do with her after that?"

I narrow my eyes thoughtfully for a moment then say with a satisfied smirk,"Whatever you want. Just make sure she doesn't die from it."

He contemplates what Ihave told him and then rakes his eyes over Lorn and then he looks back at me smiling, "Yes, sir. Understood."

"And have that one sent up to me." I gesture to the blonde and return to my quaters.

Once there I head straight to the shower, ignoring the warm food that has been delivered while I was gone. The disgusting feeling of Lorn's spit is still with me. Compulsively, I wash my hair and face twice, paying special attention to my ears, in case any trace of it remains. By the time I am finished and dressed in my casual clothes my valet is waiting in my receiving area with the girl. I tell him to come in.

When he walks her in I'm struck dumb for a moment. She is more beautiful than I had originally thought. Her hair is still a little wet and is appears more golden in the room's soft lighting than it did in the cell. And now that it has been taken down I see that it is even longer than mine. It tumbles down in loose ringlets over her shoulders and nearly down to her waist. The dampness of it has caused her shift to cling to her breasts and I can see their round full shape outlined through the thin silk. Her bright blue eyes dart around and she presses her full lips together nervously. Truly, she is fit for a king.

"Leave me." I tell my valet.

I approach her slowly. I can tell she is terrified and unlike McAllister's daughter she does not try to hide it. She starts to tremble when I get close to her and her breath catches in her throat when I reach out to stroke her smooth cheek.

"Pl-please…please don't hurt me." She whispers softy.

I can feel her fear. She is literally vibrating with it. I don't want to hurt her. Not at all. There is something about her that I can't explain except to say that I don't want her to be afraid of me.

"I won't. That's not what I want to do." I say and it's the truth. I don't want what I had before. I want a different type of submission. I notice that her eyes keep darting to the same spot and I follow her gaze. She is looking at the table where my dinner has been set out waiting for me. I think of Yoi's success with his redhead and it gives me an idea.

"What is your name?" I ask.

At first she doesn't answer, then after a moment she says "Laura."

"_Liorah."_ I repeat. "How pretty, it means 'star' in my language. It suits you." She says nothing but nods stiffly in acknowledgment. He eyes dart back over to the food and drink laid out.

"Are you thirsty, _Liorah_?" I ask. I imagine she is. Prisoners are only fed once and watered twice. It keeps their energy low, and they cause fewer problems that way.

She nods and answers softly, "Yes, very."

"Well, then, lets get you something to drink." I lead her by the hand to the table.

After her second glass of saya her hands stop shaking and the color returns to her cheeks. It is remarkable how quickly this tactic has had the desired effect.

The next morning I am woken up by the incessant chiming of my comm. It is my valet calling to tell me that I have overslept. I rub my eyes and check the time. And bolt wide awake. I should have been on the bridge ten minutes ago. I can't remember when I have slept this soundly. Not since I was a child. I disengage myself from the source of my tardiness and she is still sleeping soundly with her golden hair spread over the pillows.

I rush to get dressed, hurriedly braiding hair as my valet sets my boots out for me. He has brought my breakfast as well, but I don't have time. I finish my braid, pull on my boots and as I shrug into my tunic I notice that my little star has arisen. She looks beautiful and bewildered and she clutches the sheet to her chest. As I rush out the door, I instruct my valet to feed her and send her back to detention.

**Glossary: **

_Lun__: noun. Small, carrion eating feathered reptile native to Korrinoth_.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 17**

I enter the bridge and I am greeted by the image of the _Khans'Khiori_ looming large and bright on the holoscreens. It is a welcome sight indeed. My crew is in high spirits as well, all except Yoi, who is very quiet and lacks his usual enthusiasm. I see by the tell tale droop of his ears when he focuses on his work that he is feeling the loss of his red-head more than he would like anyone to know. I hope that awarding him several commendations for his actions and recommending him for promotion will help mend his broken heart. Although, he really should have known better than to get so attached.

I take my seat at my consol and upload the morning's reports. There are instructions from the _Khans'Khiori _regarding coming into port. They request an Official Damage Report containing the details of the damage and malfunctions of the _Rihan Annsu's_ structure and systems. I send down to engineering for an update of our propulsion and steering capacity. While we can still move fairly easily through open space with our main propulsions systems, the micro adjustments to our lateral thrusters that are required for berthing a ship in zero gravity are much more complicated. I sincerely hope that we are capable of arriving under our own power.

Engineering reports that they have been able to make significant headway with being able to adjust the system back to normal capacity in spite of the strain on the systems and that berthing should not pose any hazard once we lose the Highlander's drag. I forward this information to command and hope that they agree. No commander wants to have his vessel towed in a 'dead ship.'

We should arrive in nine hours. It is almost over. I have had communications from the Chief Landing Signal officer and the Master Yard Officer telling me my landing time slot and berth location. The MYO has forwarded the information regarding the gravitational force and the degree and speed of the axial rotation of the Khans Khiori so that I may adjust our approach vector accordingly. And a barge is on its way to take possession of the Highlander.

Yet I am concerned that I have heard nothing from Captain Quarq. He has not requested that I send him anymore information, or sent me any messages or orders of any kind. Neither has my father which is very unlike him. Especially when I have ignored his earlier messages. I can't decide if that's good news or bad. I have no idea of the reception I will receive once we reach port. However, worrying about things I have no control over has yet to prove useful so I distract myself with reading this morning's reports from engineering and see to the duties of a ship's commander for what might be the last time.

Shortly before lunch I receive word from the bridge that the tow barge has arrived and is ready to take over transport of the behemoth Highlander.

I return to the bridge and memories of my first deployment return to me when I see the large rusty bulkhead of the barge. It is so pedestrian it doesn't even have a name, just serial numbers painted on her hull.

After some routine communication with her pilot, my Chief Engineer hails me so that we can co-ordinate the release of the Rihan Annsu's tractor beam with the powering up of the barge's thrusters.

It is a carefully timed procedure. Because of the massive differences in our sizes, if the barge begins pulling away before we have released the Highlander but after we had reduced our velocity the torsion could cause catastrophic damage to the _Rihan Annsu's_ keel. Most likely it would tear the tractor turret right off, depressurizing the forward portion of the ship. For a moment, my stomach tightens and I'm tempted to think that this, like nearly everything else on this journey will be much more complicated than it needs to be.

But my fears are allayed and my Chief Engineer and the barge commander are as skilled at their jobs as I could hope. A soft shudder courses through the ship as our beam disengages; it almost feels like we wobble a bit in space before heading back true to course again.

I officially turn over possession of the Highlander to the Supremacy. My crew and I watch silently as the barge attaches her tractor beams and the Highlander's long body rolls slowly out from under us. It seems like the massive warship is never ending, and I feel the swell of pride as I get a look at her in her entirety on the screen. Just to look at her is intimidating! Her super-structure looms large like the sheer cliffs off the coast of Ai on Tyrus. My prize. My kill. A flagship of the Alliance's fleet captained by the one of the most notorious war criminals in Supremacy history. But I know that the Highlander's true value is not in what can be seen but in what she conceals. Within her engineering bays lies the technology that will win the war and drive the humans back to edge of known space where they belong. Suddenly I'm not nearly as concerned about what possible punishments await me as I was earlier.

Commander Erteien hails us farewell as he also departs. We are in safe territory now. There is no risk of an ambush by the Alliance here at the doorstep of this heavily defended floating fortress, the Khans'Khiori Nehru.

There is an amazing amount of work that needs to be done in a ridiculously short amount of time when a ship is entering port. And I spend the next few hours issuing orders and co-coordinating all necessary personnel to be at their duty stations when we are ready to make our approach. All auto-systems must be switched to manual as full control of the ship is needed for safe navigation in the confined space of the hanger bay. The rest of the crew will be busy squaring away the ship and preparing to disembark. Thankfully my valet is seeing to my personal effects so that is, at least, one less thing for me to be concerned with.

At long last I am interrupted from my work by my communications officer with a message from Captain Quarq. I leave the bridge and open it in my office. It is short, cryptic and devastating.

**Bureau of Supremacy Personnel Order # 1234-78**

**To: Commander Sincline, HRH, Crown Prince of Korrinoth and the Ninth Kingdom. **

**You are directed to have and keep in your own possession Ship's Log, Letters of Reports and Proceedings; Official Personnel Roster ; Duty Roster; Cargo Manifests and all personal communication devices. You are further directed to detach from the Rihan Annsu and report to Security Warrant Officer Delina, Adjunct Advisor, immediately upon arrival on board.**

**Signed, Vice Admiral Mongo, Commander of Supremacy's 4****th**** Fleet. **

I take a few deep breaths and dispel the feeling of fear that threatens to overwhelm me. After a moment I read it again to be sure that I comprehend its implications correctly.

There should be no surprise at what it says; I knew there would be an investigation. Hadn't I told Yoi that they would be pouring through this incident with an _enai kela_? Who else would they expect to vouchsafe the ship's log but her commander? It is not so different than any other orders I have received when coming to port. My senior officer always reviews the log. I am ordered to detach from my ship, being removed as the Rihan Annsu Commander. That could mean many things. Not all of them bad. I have detached from ships before, the last time I was being promoted to Commander of the Rihan Annsu.

However, there is one thing- actually two things- that give me pause. My royal title is used in the salutation. That is very unusual as the Supremacy pointedly ignores royal status within the ranks. Also, the Security Officer is also an Adjunct Advisor…they are sort of an independent oversight organization that reconciles disputes between the Supremacy and the Empire. This situation could go either way, but with the involvement of the Adjunct I believe that I can use my clout as heir apparent of the Ninth Kingdom to my advantage. Truly, _Ahsmir_ has brought me to this moment and I will not cower from what she has in store for me.

I return to the bridge just as confident as I was before. The Khans Khiori overfills the entire screen and my navigation officer zooms in to search for our place in the massive hanger. There are literally hundreds of ships of all varieties berthed there. The space reserved for us seems impossibly tiny, sandwiched between two destroyers, but I have negotiated tighter spaces in smaller places.

We are hailed by the Landing Signal Officer with permission to approach and I link the bridge to engineering and we head for the cavernous entrance of the docking bay.

It is an easy thing until we are there. Then there is a flurry of orders and acknowledgements jumping back and forth between the bridge, engineering and the Landing Signal Officer. Simultaneously we must cut propulsions, engage the forward, aft and lateral thrusters and most importantly disengage our Blast Force Shielding which would repel us violently out of the berth once the grav tethers try to latch on.

We arrive at our place and I assume the controls and initiate the push pull dance of the thrusters that glides us smoothly adjacent to our berth. Just one more slight pulse from the starboard jets and we will slip in and be secured. Then I lose my aft thruster and we are pivoting out of position and my forward port side is going to collide with the hanger.

"Rihan Anssu-!" The LSO begins and then is drowned out in a cacophony of voices all trying to shout emergency orders at once.

Quickly, as an instinct, I fire the thruster abaft the port side and cut power to the forward starboard, righting the ship. The moment she's straight I cut all power and the grav lines spring out and attach to us with reverberating thrum. I expel the breath I was holding in a relieved sigh. We made it back alive.

"Rihan Annsu, you made us nervous for a minute. Well, done pilot and welcome aboard." The LSO says, informally greeting us.

In a breach of decorum my bridge crew cheers and I laugh with them and slump back in my command chair. This part of the journey is over, but the other is just beginning.

**Glossary:**

_Ahsmir_- diety. Goddess of fate. Is known to have bad temper and to not bear slights and insults, real or imagined, well. Sister of Khiori, goddess of victory and Hira, goddess of improbable luck. She is the eldest.

_A/N: This chapter was one of the hardest to write both on a research and narrative level. I'm not particularly happy with the technical aspects of it. Like many authors I strive for authenticity and a believable world. I ran into significant trouble when I had to combine both naval and aviation terminology for the scene where Lotor's ship, Rihan Anssu, arrives at the Kahn's Khiori. The added twist of space travel inspired me to combine them because of the unique nature of interstellar-craft. They are technically 'ships' that fly just as space is literally the sky but is more often compared to the ocean where exploration is concerned. The Khans'Khiori is as much as a ship in her own right as she is a mobile airbase and port. _


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage **

**Chapter 18**

After the necessary duties of making ready the Rihan Annsu to stay at port and compiling my log files I am alerted to a visitor aboard my ship. It is the Master Yard Officer acting as my relief officer. Command certainly isn't wasting any time. I call my crew to muster on the main deck and read to them the necessary portion of my orders to detach. I take the opportunity to praise them for their bravery and tenacity in duty. Assuring them they are the finest in the fleet and it was my pleasure to serve as their commander. I want to tell them that they have been part of history being made but I hold back. Without an explanation I will sound like a megalomaniac and the information about the new jump technology is so new and highly classified that it is likely to be Blacked Out. I don't believe Command would appreciate me sharing it with seven hundred or so soldiers who are going to get drunk as they possibly can tonight.

The Master Yard Officer salutes me and says "I relieve you Commander Sincline."

I return his salute, although I outrank him, and reply "I stand relieved." I pick up my files and turn smartly about face and disembark from the Rihan Annsu, no longer my ship, for the last time.

I head down the gangway and I'm suddenly aware of people stopping and staring at me. I continue down pretending not to notice and once on the platform I hear my name.

"Commander Sincline?"

I turn around and see a small, wiry man with a Warrant Officer's uniform flanked by two much larger security personnel. That they are waiting for me outside my ship does not bode well.

"Yes, I am Commander Sincline." I answer and I feel the confidence that I had earlier start to erode.

"I am Adjunct Advisor Delina. Please, come with me." He says pleasantly, but I am not fooled by his tone. I notice the service badges on his chest and see the tell tale grey and orange death's head of a _Dia'athrya_ interrogator. He is not the jovial fellow he is pretending to be. Something about him reminds me of McAlistar.

He leads me to the shuttle, the two guards follow, and while we wait for one to arrive, I see more looks and whispers directed my way.

"Are those your logs?" He gestures to the leather bound case I'm carrying maintaining his conversational tone.

I nod. "Yes." I am determined to say as little as possible to him.

"May I take them from you, please?" He asks as the shuttle arrives.

"Of course." I answer and hand them over.

"After you." He smiles again and motions me to precede him onboard.

I sit down and he sit directly across from me and smiles broadly as if we were long separated friends and says, "I imagine you have quite a story to tell, Sincline. I can't wait to hear every word of it."

And once we get to his office I tell him. Him and his associates. Over and over again. For hours. They come back again and again asking me the same questions in a different order or different questions that mean exactly the same thing as the original questions. Then as they read through the ships log and the details of the battle they ask me more questions.

Delina is particularly interested in McAlistar and of when and how I knew she, in particular, was the captain of the ship. Then, to my horror, he starts asking about her daughter and now I'm wondering how much he really knows.

But there is one topic they stay clear away from. The subject of the jump drive technology. I am curious as to why, because after over four hours of what he calls 'interviews' it is never mentioned. I can only surmise that Command wants as few traceable records of it as possible until they know more about it. This is a formal, if aggressive, debriefing and as such it is being recorded, so perhaps the questions about that are scheduled for a less structured environment. The thought causes a chill to run down my spine.

But, finally, and abruptly, he says, "Commander Sincline, let's talk more about this later, my dinner is getting cold and the hospitality officer has been waiting for you." He hands me my personal comm and then he shows me out the door and into a hallway with a crossroad of passages leading away from it.

He is not done with me, not by a long shot. He is playing a game with me. I know he suspects something is amiss and I'm sure he and his associates will be 'interviewing' memebers of my crew and probably many of the prisoners as well.

I look around completely disoriented. For the moment I have not been charged with any crime or dereliction of duty and I am free to move about as I please. Except I have no idea where I am in this labrynth of corridors. Or exactly where I'm supposed to go. Just as I am about to cue up the schematics of the ship on my comm a female approaches me, I can tell she's an officer by the red trim on her uniform and her braided hair.

"You must be Commander Sincline." She says.

"I am." She is the first woman of my own kind that I have seen in more than half a year. I answer trying not to stare, although it is hard. With the exception of a few, the human females on my ship seem drab by comparison. I am so distracted by her that I don't quite catch everything she is saying.

"—look tired. Well, at least he left you in one piece." She observes scanning my battle dress uniform and less than tidy braid. "Come, I'll show you to your room assignment. No one can ever find their way out of the security sector without help; but I think that's the point." She remarks, her red-violet eyes flash with wry amusement.

I grunt in agreement.

"You are the talk of the ship, Commander," She says as we walk through the corridor and people turn and stare at me as we walk by. At first I wonder how they know who I am, but then I realize that I'm the only one onboard I have seen wearing combat fatigues. The other officers are wearing their dailies.

"Oh? Really? What are they saying?" I ask. I am curious to know what kind of reputation has preceded me here.

"Well, that depends…" She answers with a slight smile as we turn a corner down another gangway.

"It depends? On what?" I ask. She's teasing me. But, as I notice how the tail of her long officer's braid brushes her shapely rear as she walks ahead of me, I don't mind at all.

"It depends on who you ask. Some say that you are a hero; you slew the monster, _Rakh'orhe_, and returned with a treasure. They think you should be recognized for your bravery and cunning. Others…you're nothing but a lucky _haufir'nau_ idiot who should be thrown in the brig for the duration of his contract- Ah, we're here." She answers as we reach my quarters and she opens the door. I'm surprised at how well appointed it is.

Noticing my confusion, she explains, "My uncle thought it best to put you in the civilian state rooms for now. In case he has to confine you to quarters. These are the ones reserved for visiting royalty."

"Your uncle?" I ask as we walk through and she gives me the tour. I glance around a fairly large suite of rooms, including a private kitchen and formal dining area. I must say, I'm impressed. While it is not up to the standards of my apartments back on Korrinoth, it is certainly far more luxurious than anything I have become used to during the last seven years of my contract with the Supremacy.

"Captain Quarq is my uncle." She answers and I look at her name badge for the first time. Erie Ai'Quarq. I had been too distracted by her _saya_ colored eyes and round ass to notice before.

"I see." I say.

"Is everything satisfactory, commander?" She asks as we exit the bedroom. Our eyes meet for a moment too long and she quickly looks down and I notice how her long dark eyelashes cast a shadow on her impossibly high cheekbones. She peeks up at me through her lashes and her mouth turns up slightly in that sultry, yet mocking half smile as she notices me staring. For a moment I'm fighting the urge to grab her, drag her back into the bedroom and ravish her.

"Yes, quite." I finally answer.

She hands me my access card and I feel the drag of her nails against my palm as she pulls her hand away.

She turns to go and I reach out and take hold of her arm to stop her. "So what do you think?" I ask.

"About what?" She asks me back her lips forming a delicious pout.

"About the Highlander Incident?" I clarify.

She pauses for a moment and bites her bottom lip before she answers. " I think it's the stupidest thing I ever heard of anyone doing."

"Oh." I say and release her. Perhaps I read her signals wrong.

She regards me for a moment and then traces her finger tip lightly along the red officer's braid of my epaulette. "Tell me, Commander; are you in the habit of doing stupid things?" She asks and looks up at me through her eyelashes once more.

"Every chance I get." I grin. Oh no, I read her right.

She doesn't reply, but as she turns to go she tosses a coy smile over her shoulder at me. I stand in the doorway to watch her walk away.

I go back inside and the door swishes shut behind me. I head to bedroom stretch out on the bed. The mattress conforms to my shape like the one I'm used to at home. The linens are fine quality; perhaps from _Sha'mara_. I have been on patrol so long that I have forgotten what luxury feels like. I close my eyes and stretch out, allowing the tension that had been coiled up inside me during the debriefing finally ebb away.

It is always like this after coming in from a long float. Everything seems new and decadent. It never fails to bring to mind the first time I had returned home for a holiday from my first year away at the Academy. After eighteen months of Supremacy discipline, cold water showers and sharing an unheated concrete barracks with fifty other cadets, my personal apartments that I had previously been accustomed to in Galra Castle seemed like some fairy tail paradise.

I must have dozed off because when open my eyes again I see that my valet has retrieved my luggage from the Rihan Annsu's hold and is unpacking my wardrobe.

I summon him and tell him to make me some _ullan_ and prepare me something to eat. He bows and informs me that I have a great deal of messages and my mail has been delivered. Apparently, the Khans Khiori was the nearest station to us. She would have been sending us our resupply ship along with our letters from home. Truly, for my crew, there is nothing better than hearing from home. Especially when one looks into the empty black for as long as we do.

The thought of letters remind that I have some to write. The family members of my crew who have perished will soon be recieving receiving word that their loved ones have died in service. I have put off my duty to them long enough.

I get off the bed and go to the desk in the study. My valet finds me in there and serves my ullan.

I take a drink and link my comm up to the data base of the Khans Khiori. My ship's computers have been linked to its master servers. I type in my access code and the system checks the signature of my comm unit. A moment later the cue for a retina scan pops up. I lean into the glowing three dimensional, floating box of blue light and it scans my right iris and I now can access my ship's system again.

It takes me a moment to scroll through my files, but I find it. The casualty lists and their attached personnel files.

Twelve have died in the taking of the Highlander. Twelve dead. Two from OneKill: Rosha and Leark. Four from my own squad: Sal'jeen, Mei'er, Jaen and Si'ila. Two pilots; Bict and Weir. Four more killed during a prison riot onboard the Highlander. Levan, Iirie, Cain, Si'on.

Not a large number by combat standars and not espcially for the taking of a carrier of the Highlander's size. No doubt we would have lost many more had most of her crew not been evacuating into escape pods. But enough that if, by some chance, the Council determines that my actions are a criminal dereliction of duty that I will spend a very long time in prison.

My valet returns with a bowl of _breishi _that he had prepared in the kitchen. I had not realized that I had slept so long.

As I eat my breakfast I see that several of my junior officers have already composed letters of condolence of their own. As they should have, since the men reported directly to them. Surprisingly, there are two from Corporal Dornon, who assumed command of OneKill when his squad leaders were killed one right after the other. He didn't write his account of the battle but instead an immensely eloquent letter of how much their honor and bravery has influenced him and that he will dedicate his life to be one worthy of their memory. He has shown a mark of true leadership that I will notate when I write my recommendations. He should have an opportunity to lead and honor his promise, not be stuck in the rank and file because of his social status.

I set the rest of the letters aside for now and I a template in another window. The Supremacy has a strict procedure for doing everything. As the ship's commander my letter is expected to be more formal, but I wish I knew these men better to include the personal touches in my letters that I have read in these others. However, I suppose that too much familiarity would impede both my ability to lead effectively and to order them to their deaths if need be.

I start with my own fire team first. I knew these men the best and that should make it easier. And it does until I get to Si'ila, my fellow Korronite and subject. I open his personal file and what I see there takes me aback. He is older than I had thought and his contract was originally with the Ninth Kingdom, not the Supremacy. He was stationed on Korrinoth and conscripted to deep space as part of the Ninth Kingdom's obligation to the Supremacy.

All males are required to give four years of their life in service to the Supremacy and Si'ila had already completed his. This was his second one. Before this he was a third year law student on Tyrus. As I read on I see what has happened that sent him here to his death. Tenure. His family was in debt to the Crown and forced into servitude until the debt is paid. He rejoined so that his service might quicken the repayment. That is most likely why he was stationed with me. His father, mother and two younger sisters are also in tenure. Most likely they are separated from each other and this news will be particularly devastating. It is even more tragic because he didn't have to die; he gave his life protecting me from a shot that would have been absorbed by my battle armor. The moment comes back to me and I can see it as it happens again and I feel his phantom hand in mine as the life leaves his body in a spasming, painful death.

I swallow a lump in my throat and decide that he has settled whatever debts his family owes my father. I disregard the formal template and write two letters. One to Si'ila's father and one to mine. To Si'ila's I tell him that his son is a hero and has been my salvation. And to mine I inform him that the Si'ila family debt has been fulfilled with the exchange of their son's life for mine. I affix my royal seal to both. A royal pardon will not bring their son back, but it will do wonders to ease their present situation.

After that the rest of the letters are comparatively easy.

**Glossary:**

Brieshi- soup made with a well seasoned meat based broth widely enjoyed by all classes in all parts of the Empire with many recipe variations consistant with local ingrediants. It is typically made with favi meat incorporating the discarded bits of the animal such as tendons, tripe and tougher cuts of meat. Because of this, it is slow cooked over night and has become a traditional breakfast food. Fresh greens and savory vegetables are added for texture just before eating.

It is notable, however, most upper classes only eat choice cuts of meat added to the broth tableside just before serving.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 19**

It is the middle of the afternoon and I have nothing to do. Well, not exactly _nothing _but there are no pressing duties. No obligations. And most disconcerting of all, no new orders. It is a very strange feeling. Especially after nearly a year of never having enough time in a day to finish my work. I suppose I could begin writing my recommendations for my crew or begin sorting through the insane amount of mail overwhelming my inbox. I really should open up a channel and attempt to reach to my father and let him know I've have arrived safely, none the worse for wear. However, at the moment, that seems the most unappealing idea of all. Instead I pull up the schematics of the ship to look for the recreational decks.

The Kahns Khiori has several. Some terra formed to look like manicured gardens, lake shores or beaches and some built to look like city blocks with shops and buildings and all have a realistic faux sky projected on the holodome. They even have weather. It's supposed to become overcast and rain in two hours over the cityscape. These decks are designed to give the illusion of being on-planet. You might not be home but at least your mind is convinced that you are not floating in space anymore. There are also restaurants, bars, clubs and several rather impressive brothels, if the holos of the pleasure slaves within them have not been overly retouched and edited.

As I'm flipping through the pages of options it occurs to me that what I miss most are the green moss covered forests of Korrinoth and their massive hardwood trees. When I was at home, I hunted _walin_ at least once a week in the royal forests that surrounded Castle Galra. I look to see if there is a holo-deck that could simulate that and I find it in the custom gaming-program section. However there is a four day wait for an opening. I register and log out of the ship's directory and open my inbox. I might as well get it over with.

Most of my recent messages are birthday wishes from all over the Empire. It gives me pause for a moment. My thirtith birthday was two days ago. During the taking of Highlander I had completely forgotten. I know better than to be flattered by all these messages, most are computer generated and even the personal notes are sent by a valet or secretary. There are notifications of gifts sent directly to Korrinoth which will be put directly into storage until my return. Some of them are very nice. Lirinska, Queen of the Third Kingdom has sent me one hundred casks of Illyrian wine. Certainly, she does this because she hopes to gain my favor and turn my attention to her daughter. It will never happen. The girl is too young for marriage yet and shows clear signs of growing up to be as hideous and scaly as the rest of her relatives. My valet will be sure to send a note thanking her for the wine, it is an excellent vintage, too bad the Third Kingdom is not a powerful enough ally for me to tolerate such an ugly wife.

I continue scrolling thru the rest of my gift notices, so far I have received: a dozen bolts of damask woven with the Sincline colors and crest from a Duke of Rondak, of the Tenth Kingdom. I suppose he has a daughter to marry off as well. A new hunting bow hand carved from rare _onat_ wood and a quiver of arrows of the same from my cousin Tabor. More wine, this time from a Tyrusian Lord. The name gives me pause, Narbrok Yoi. I wonder if he is related to Ensign Yoi, since they share the same unusual surname name. I minimize the page and open up personnel files. I pull up Yoi's and see that it Narbrok Yoi is his uncle and next of kin. I delve a little deeper and find a classified file that requires an override code. Now, I am very curious. I enter the code and begin reading.

I can not believe my eyes. Narbrok Yoi and his nephew, who is also my NSOE, Ensign Naro Yoi, are refugees from the Fifth Kingdom. Yoi's father and brother had been executed for treason and the remaining family had been doomed to a similar fate. Except Narbrok managed to escape, with his wife and nephew, and was granted asylum on Tyrus over twenty years ago. How intriguing! I will have to know more of how Yoi's family came to ingratiate themselves to my father so much that he would harbor traitors. No doubt they must have proved instrumental in aiding him against the Fifth Kingdom's misguided attempts to usurp his throne.

Korrinoth and the Fifth Kingdom have been enemies since I was child, when my father's second wife, a princess from the Fifth, attempted a coup with the aid of my half brother. They failed. And then they died like the traitors they were. For years, under the orders of Emperor Bhorn, we have been in a state of detente, but territory disputes have caused tensions to increase once again.

But this new information certainly explains Yoi's tremendous efforts on my behalf. Certainly, his family owes my father a great deal and I can be sure his loyalty to me will be beyond question. I am lucky that he came to be aboard my vessel.

I cue my mail back looking for something from my father. Nothing. As of yet anyway. Sometimes sub-space communications can take awhile to update.

However, I do see that that I have finally received an update from the Bughatti Company. My place on the waiting list for a Vehyron has moved up to tenth. They require me to pay for the vehicle in full to keep it. I exhale a deep breath. I had thought I merely had to put up a deposit. It is a vast amount of money. Seven million credits to be exact. But it is well worth it. The Vehyron is the fastest commercial pinnace in production. Coming stock from the factory it can out maneuver military fighters. I planned to have mine further modified into one of the fastest ships in the galaxy.

Seven million credits in hard currency. There is no way I can persuade my father to sign it out of the treasury, not even for my birthday. My royal allowance will take several years to cover it and I do not have that much time. If I can not come up with the money in sixty days I will lose my spot and be removed from the list. I can be put back on in six months, but I will be at the bottom. It took me three and a half years to move up this far. I save the message and close out of the page.

As I stretch out for nap my valet informs me I have an invitation waiting. Captain Quarq has invited me to dine with him. Dining with the captain is an honor, but I can't say it's totally unexpected. I'm sure that Quarq wants to hear all about the capture of the Highlander. I tell my valet to reply that I accept and to ready my formals and to find my medals and honors of estate. I drift off to sleep hoping that Captain Quarq's lovely niece will be there.

* * *

Finally! I am on my way back to my suite. Dinner was tedious and I am desperate for some good company and a strong drink. Quarq's niece was not there yet several of Quarq's cronies were. Unfortunately, I was informed upon arrival by my host, much to everyone's disappointment, that I may not speak of the Highlander incident until it decided what is to remain classified. I must have been the youngest person there by twenty years and the lowest military rank so out of respect I was forced to drink sparingly. So I there I was, stuck, stone sober, feigning interest in old war stories, Supremacy politics and condescending advice from my superiors on every imaginable subject for the better part of two hours. The only highlight was when Quarq accidentally asked the Purser's Officer how the audit on the Highlander was coming and the old man chortled and drunkenly assured me I had 'quite a fortune coming to me, if I didn't end up in _Ghalai_.'

I check my comm and see that I have a message from my Second asking if I would care to join the bridge crew and several of my juniors at one of the bars reserved for officer's of the fleet and the social elite.

I make my way to the shuttle station and head straight to the bar. People pause mid-conversation and stare as I walk in. I am already notorious and my formal uniform along with my royal accoutrement make me stand out even more. I should be used to it by now and do my best to ignore it, but it is hard. Opinion is divided, not quite as sharply as I have been lead to believe, but I'm sure I have some detractors among the people gathered here.

I look around briefly and then I hear someone call my name.

"Sincline! Over here!" It is Commander Eritein; he is sitting with my Second, my navigator and several others of my crew. I smile and make my over to them.

"Wow! Sir! You sure are shiny!" My navigator says blinking exaggeratedly at my Royal Emblems and Estates. He has quite a head start on me and is glassy eyed already.

Eritien pushes a drink into my hand and we toast to making it home alive. Eirtien is a jovial fellow and I find out from him that he is from the Sixth Kingdom and was in the class behind me in the Academy. I don't remember him but I pretend to as he asks me about mutual acquaintances from my graduating class. After a few rounds I wonder where Yoi is, surely he is not still sulking? I ask my Second if he had seen him since we came aboard.

"Yes, Sir, he's over there." He answers and gestures across the room behind me with his glass.

I turn around and see Yoi talking closely with an attractive female at table in the corner. It seems that worrying about his broken heart is unnecessary. I think he has learned his lesson and will not make the mistake of forming attachments while he is on deployment again. From the look of things he has set his heart on his new lady and forgotten the red-head completely. I think that this young woman would be wise to not become too enamored of Yoi or she will be in for a great disappointment. She too will be completely forgotten at the next port; for such is a soldier's love.

I see the young woman laugh at something he says and motion to the slave serving drinks to attend me.

"Send them a bottle of whatever they're drinking, at my expense." He nods in acquiescence. I take another drink and glance around the room surreptitiously once more. I notice that people are staring and whispering to each other. Undoubtedly about me. I wonder if it would have been more prudent to change out of my dress uniform or at least remove my emblems. It's too late now.

I believe a show of generosity will enhance my reputation to those who already hold me in high esteem and might sway those who are ambivalent.

I motion to the servant one more time and he refills my glass.

"Give everyone a bottle of whatever they're drinking." I order and again he acquiesces silently, without question as if this happens all the time.

Apparently it doesn't. Eritein stares at me a moment then bursts out laughing. "You really are crazy!" He says shaking his head.

I see Yoi's bottle being delivered and he looks alarmed at first then turns around and sees me. I raise my glass and smile and he returns the gesture. I see his female friend lean in a whisper something excitedly to him. No doubt she is asking about me.

I turn around to rejoin my group but I can hear the excited murmurs followed by toasts to my family name "Sincline" as my generosity is made known and my gifts are accepted.

Our new bottle arrives and Eritien and my navigator start to raise a toast. "Sincline!" Eritien says and clinks glasses with me.

"_Khada!"_ My navigator adds.

"_Rolkur!_ Is more like it!" I hear over my shoulder and a senior officer stalks up to our group and slams the bottle I have just bought for him and his group down on our table and glares at me. I can tell by his accent that he is from the Fifth Kingdom.

I am on my feet in an instant and so are my navigator and Eritien.

The room falls silent and all eyes are on us. Or more precisely on me, seeking my reaction is to this insult.

I have never seen this individual in my life, but I already know the reason for his hostility. It has nothing to do with my adventure with the Highlander and everything to do with the escalating hostilities between The Ninth and the Fifth Kingdom.

"You belong on your knees, _rolkur!_" He says again. "Down! Now!"

I size him up, he is large, belligerent and very drunk. He also out ranks me and has ordered me to kneel before him like slave. I glare at him, unable to suppress a low primal growl.

"The only thing that's falling to its knees is the Fifth Kingdom." I retort, defying him. His abuse of authority is not nearly as great a crime as my willful disobedience and complete disrespect.

He sputters, lost for words, but that doesn't hinder his response. He draws his fist back and lets fly a right hook, punching me square in the jaw. I stagger back but I don't fall. He hits hard but not as hard as my father.

There are several startled gasps and Eritein grabs me by the shoulders and my navigator jumps in between us trying to break up the fight before we all end up in the brig. Out of the corner of my eye I see Yoi has made his way across the room and is standing right behind me. I shove them aside and wipe the blood trickling from the corner of my mouth and step up close to him. I meet his eyes and I see that he is surprised I'm still standing.

_Rolkur._ I have been called it all my life. At first to my face, while my brother still lived, then behind my back after his execution. I am tired of it. And this Fifth Kingdom _keti_ is going to find out the hard way that my mother may have been human but I am the son of the _Diazba'al._ And that makes me laugh in his face.

"Go ahead. Do it again." I taunt, smiling at him broadly enough that he sees my canines. As he raises his fist once more a glint of fear and uncertainty flickers in his eyes. And that is all I need to see. Something in me snaps and three decades of rage against those who shamed and tormented me for most of my life are unleashed on this loud mouthed fool who should have known better than to insult the Prince of Korrinoth. And now he will. They all will! For I intend to make an example of him.

I dodge his blow and land several of my own in quick succession. It is an ugly fight as we both are trained warriors but my rage makes me vicious and I take him to the ground and pummel him. Just as I am relishing the feel of bone crunching beneath my fists and it becomes my absolute goal to kill this bastard with my bare hands I am struck with a paralyzing pain and stars burst behind my eyes and then everything goes black as I collapse to the floor unconscious.

Security has finally arrived.

**Glossary:**

_Walin_: (noun) four legged forest dwelling mammal with both horns and curved tusks native to Korrinoth. It is prized for it luxurious pelt which has a natural harlequin pattern and phosphorescent markings. Males are the most prized and have phosphorescent tips to their tusks as well. The meat is usually discarded as it has a strong gamey flavor.

_Onat_: (noun) a type of carnivorous tree native to Tyrus. It's branches grow with natural hollows which encourage birds, insects and small animals to crawl in and use then as nests. The trees then secrete a sap which paralyzes the prey and begins to digest it in two phases. The soft tissue of the animal are absorbed quickly leaving the bones to become part of the tree as it grows around them, continuing to slowly leech the nutrients and minerals out of them. The wood is prized for woodworking especially those pieces with entire skeletons clearly identifiable in the grain.

_Ghalai:_ Military Prison on the ice desserts of planet Neeve. It's a particularly undesirable location because it's location has the lowest recorded temperatures in the Empire.

_Khada_: (slang) no translation. Someone who has more than their share of luck or perfect timing. Most often used in reference to gambling. Example: "Did you see how much that khada won at dice?"

_Rolkur:_ (insult) lit trans. Half-breed. Once referred to ethnically mixed children between the Old and the New Kingdoms. But now refers specifically to racially mixed Human and Drule. In the recent past such individuals were not allowed full citizenship and were required to pay an addition tax to hold gainful employment. While such laws have been abolished, mixed race people still face wide spread discrimination.

_Diazaba'al:_ (religious figure) The Demon King. Leader of an army of demons and ruler of the third of nine separate hells believed in by the Drule. Also the nickname bestowed on King Zarkon of the Ninth Kingdom while he was the commanding general of the army of King Vosta of Korrinoth.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage**

**Chapter 20**

I wake up lying face down on a small cot in what appears to be a cell. As I push myself up to a sitting position I notice two substantial dried blood stains on the fabric. Undoubtedly, they are mine. I swing my legs down and look around. The sudden movement sends a lancing pain through my head and I take several deep breaths to ward off a wave of dizziness. It is indeed a cell as the slick grey steel walls and open lavatory attest. As does my formal tunic now torn under both arms and bare of my medals and estates. I laugh out loud, of all the offences I have committed over the last week, a bar fight is what finally lands me in the brig. I still have the faint taste of blood in my mouth and my left eye is hard to open. Gingerly I touch the area and feel the swelling. He got in a nice shot, that one. Well, I'm glad for him, since he had such a limited opportunity to do so. I must have hurt him badly if I am incarcerated for it. Good. I hope so.

I lean back against the cold wall and tilt my throbbing head back and wonder if my father has been informed of this already. At least I got locked up for something he would approve of; beating the shit out of an officer from the Fifth Kingdom.

The intercom buzzes and interrupts my musings.

"Commander Sincline? Are you awake, sir?" The voice asks.

"Yes." I answer my voice hoarse. I cough a little to clear my throat.

The door swishes open and a meds walks in along with two security officers. To my surprise one of them is Sergeant Cossak.

"Sir, do you mind if I take a look at that eye?" the meds asks.

"It's fine." I answer. I'm no _sulak _who needs a patch for every scrape or bruise. Truthfully, I've been beaten worse by my drill instructors. The taste of blood is still strong and I poke my tongue around and feel a missing tooth. Perhaps that Fifth Kingdom _keti_ does hit as hard as my father. Too bad for him he can't take one.

"Sir, I beg your pardon, but I really need to, you know, for regulations and such. So, they know that this how you looked when you came in here." He persists.

I growl in disagreement.

Then Cossak says "Sir, the sooner he examines you the sooner we can move you." I cast a one-eyed glare at him but nod my assent. If it's unavoidable I might as well get it over with.

The meds begins a standard check for head injuries, shining a light in both of my eyes. He gingerly holds open my swollen one so he can get a better look and asks me if I have any other injuries that are not visible. I sweep my tongue back over the vacant cavity between my molars and shake my head.

He frowns skeptically at me. "Sir, tilt your head up, please."

I sigh in exasperation but acquiesce. He shines the light up my nostrils and then reaches in his kit and pulls out a palm sized device that I recognize as a portable magnetic resonance scanner. He calibrates something on it and holds it up. A bright red light emits from it and he furrows his brow in concentration as he watches the projected image on the three dimensional holo-screen. From my vantage point I can see a distorted image of my skull in reverse.

"Sir, please turn your head to the left." He asks politely.

I want to tell him to fuck off. I'm fine! And that he should be examining the head of the man who thought he could best me. I glance at Cossak and I see that this is greatly amusing to him. The sooner I get this over with the better. I turn my head and I hear him grunt as he sees the hole in my dentition.

"To the right, please."

I do as he asks and seeing that I'm not concealing any more damage he switches off the machine and sets it down.

"Well?" I ask.

"Not bad, sir. Except for that missing tooth. Your leukocyte count is a little high, but that could be because of stress."

"Probably." I remark dryly. I dislike doctors. Especially when they are treating me; they make me feel weak.

He swabs the area around my eye with antiseptic and applies a patch on it. It feels cool and the numbing agents in it sooth my discomfort immediately.

He reaches in his kit looking for something I glance back up at Cossack, who unsuccessfully trying to smother a shit eating grin. As uncomfortably aware of my swollen closed eye as I am, there is something infectious about his mirth.

"You should see the other guy." I say to him.

"Oh, yes sir, I already have." He assures me chuckling. "Not a pretty sight. By the way, nice job, sir"

"He should have watched his mouth better." I retort.

"He will now, Sir. I had to reset his jaw." The meds volunteers as he pushes my sleeve back. "This is just an antibiotic stack and something the help with the inflammation."

He presses a subcutaneous jet syringe to the inside of my forearm. "You'll feel a cool tingly sensation for a second or two." He advises and then I feel a fierce burning cold and the zap of an electric shock as he administers the drugs. In spite of my best efforts, I flinch. I hate doctors.

The meds types in some notes and packs up his gear. "Well, I'm done here, he's all yours. Thank you for you co-operation, Sir. Have a nice day. " He says remanding me to the custody of my former security officer.

"Sir, as soon as you're ready." Cossak says still grinning and staring insubordinately at my eye patch.

I stand up and extend my hands for him to put restraints on; he clicks them shut and we exit the cell.

We walk down a corridor lined with empty cells and come to a door. The accompanying guard swipes a card and we enter and we walk down another corridor until we enter a room with row upon row on lockers. We stop at one and he opens it and takes out a clear plastic bag containing my medals and Royal emblems of estate, turns and dumps it on a counter top behind us.

"Sir, would you please check that all of your belongings are accounted for and that none are missing?" He asks placing a data card down with an itemized list cued up.

I look and see my eight service medals and ribbons, as well as my emblems of estate and embroidered sash. I compare them to the list and shake my head in disbelief. I see my medals listed individually by name but my emblems of estate are under: "Three items miscellaneous baubles or jewelry. One red scarf." I cringe inside to think of my sacred airs so maligned and called 'baubles.' Truthfully, I should be glad they are not damaged and all of the gems are secure in their settings and not being crushed underfoot or lying in some dustbin somewhere. Surely _Hira_ has been watching over me.

I sign the card and Cossack refills the bag with my every notable accomplishment, inheritance and identity and hands it to me. I can't explain how I feel when I look down, past my manacled hands, at the symbols of my Kingdom, my family and my legacy lumped ignobly together in a common plastic sack like the trinkets they were cataloged as. Not shame exactly, but something like it. I bunch up the bag as small as I can and hold it between my palms so that no one can see what I am carrying.

"Sergeant Cossack, have you been resigned already?" I ask as we walk down yet another twisting set of corridors. I'm curious because I would have thought that my crew would have been granted at least a few days leave before receiving new orders.

"No sir, not yet." He remarks casually and waits as his companion swipes a card and punches in a code which opens the door to the elevator. They both move to go forward but I stop in surprise.

"Then what are you doing?" I ask demanding to know why my former crewmember is breaking me out of jail. I'm already in enough trouble!

"Sir, relax, I have some friends in security here; I called in a favor with Sergeant Hapi." He replies, gesturing to his comrade. I hesitantly step in the lift with him and the newly introduced Sergeant Hapi.

"No, sir, actually Sergeant Cossack here is doing me the favor. You're being transferred. Confined to quarters. It really helps me out. We're all full in detention. Had no room for you." Hapi assures me solemnly.

Had no room? I passed dozens of empty cells on my out.

"I see." I answer. It seems that friends in low places are just as important as the other kind. Maybe even more so.

The elevator reaches its destination and we step out on to the platform to await the shuttle that will take us back to the crew and passenger areas.

"Damn shame about Delina." Hapi says and presses his mouth in to a thin line and shakes his head.

"Terrible." Cossak agrees. "See, that's why there are procedures in place."

I'm confused. "Warrant Officer Delina?" I ask, wondering if they are speaking of my interrogator.

"Yes sir, the same." Hapi replies as the shuttle arrives. We enter and to my dismay it is full of young soldiers enjoying an evening of revelry.

"What happened to Delina?" I ask trying to ignore the curious glances and whispers aimed in my direction. I'm very aware of my bruised and disheveled appearance and how it's going to fuel the shipboard gossip.

"Hey, aren't you—"A sniggering young private begins to ask me.

"Shut up! _Hau'f nau!_" Hapi bellows so loudly my ears ring but he succeeds in silencing the private and his company immediately.

"There was a terrible accident during his interrogation of one of the Highlander prisoners." Hapi, turning back to me, supplies conversationally. The immediate and dramatic change in tone is comical and as I smile I notice the swelling of my eye is already starting to go down.

"Just awful, sir." Cossak confirms. "He had McAllister's daughter brought to his quarters for… an advanced interrogation session. He must have taken her restraints off."

"You never do that, sir." Hapi stresses.

"Mmm, no sir, never. Just never." Cossak shakes his head thoughtfully tsk-tsking. "Well, she got hold of blade, a dinner knife to be exact. And stabbed him-" he thrusts his closed fist upward in pantomime of the act, "in the groin then slit his throat." He finishes his description with a slashing motion. "Ear to ear."

My stomach lurches and I feel an unpleasant tightening in my own groin at the story. "What happened to the girl?" I ask. Surely she is being flayed alive as we speak.

"She found his sidearm and turned it on herself." He tells me.

"You're joking?!" I accuse him. I think of gruesome crime and it seems hard to reconcile it with the pretty, dark eyed girl I encountered. Certainly, she was feisty and it had taken hours before she finally succumbed to me, becoming pleasingly pliant. Yet it seems her spirit wasn't broken after all.

"No, sir. I wish we were. But see, he should have known better. Been more careful." Hapi says.

"Indeed. He should have. He knew she was a killer; like mother like daughter. That's what I always say, sir." Cossak agrees.

"I was just with him! He was leading the investigation of the Highlander!" I say shocked that an officer of the Supremacy could be murdered, cut down, by the enemy right under our noses.

"You know sir, I was wondering about that too. I tell you, they are very lax about regulations here. Somebody needs to be written up." Hapi says as the shuttle doors open to our destination and we exit the cab.

"Wondering about what? What regulations?" I ask getting impatient with all these cryptic statements.

"Sir, Adjunct Advisor Delina is—well, _was_ a citizen of the Fifth Kingdom. Considering the conflict between your Kingdoms, he should never have been assigned to the Highlander. Sort of a –ah-conflict of interests." Cossak supplies helpfully.

"Of course." I say as this new information sinks in. I feel like I've been drenched in cold water. So that's why he wasn't asking about the jump drive! He didn't want it on the record at all! It was the one piece of evidence that would support my claim completely and exonerate me immediately of wrong doing!

It would be easy for command to classify any information concerning the drive so secret that they could deny its existence completely. Without that crucial bit of information my attack could easily be portrayed as the act of a rash, incompetent, glory-seeking commander. I would have been charged with murder and at best, even if I was found not guilty, my Kingdom's standing in the Empire would have been tainted. Permanently. At worst, I could have been convicted and Emperor Bjorn could have forced my father to renounce me as his heir! Suddenly, I'm glad Delina is dead and my fondness for McAllister's daughter has returned.

But now that leaves me with another question. Who assigned Delina to the Highlander investigation? Admiral Mongo? Is he a supporter of the Fifth as well? But why? He is from the First Kingdom and everyone knows they don't involve themselves in the petty squabbles of the Late Kingdoms. Surely it has more to do with the resurgence of hostilities between the Supremacy and the Alliance and those who would profit or loss because of it than it does of boarder disputes. So who assigned Delina? And more importantly why? This is certainly a question that needs to be answered. Not knowing who your enemies are or what they want is a most dangerous circumstance.

We arrive at my suite and Hapi swipes the card and my door swishes open and they escort me in. Hapi cues up the official prisoner transfer orders and the holo-screen glows as he reads them to me. I notice Captain Quarq's signature authorizing it and I remember what his niece had said about this very situation. It seems the old man can 'predict the weather', as my father likes to say. Clearly, Quarq is friend and that gives me confidence.

"Commander Sincline, you are confined to quarters. You are prohibited from leaving your quarters except under the following conditions: you are under orders from your superiors, you are arraigned and released from incarceration or in case of life threatening emergency. Do you understand these conditions as I have read them to you?" Hapi says in what can only be described as a bored recitation.

"I do." I answer.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Sir." And they both salute and turn smartly on their heels and leave.

My door swishes shut and I turn around to find my valet kneeling awaiting my command.

"Run me a bath and turn my bed down." I tell him and he rises immediately to do my bidding. "Wait!" I call out and he quickly turns back around.

"Take these with you and put them away." I begin to hand him the bag of personal effects that Cossack had given me when I realize I am still wearing my restraints!

"Fools!" I growl and drop everything to the floor. I begin to seethe. I suppose they think this is a funny joke because there is no way they simply forgot to remove them!

My valet see my predicament and his eyes grow wide with dismay.

"Shall I call for them to come back, my Lord?" He asks nervously.

"Shut up!" I growl as I tug at them and to my surprise I hear a click and the bracelet widens. I reach around with my other hand and feel for the release button. I press it and my left wrist springs free. I quickly extricate myself from the other and stare at the open restraints, turning them over in my fingers. Cossack closed them—but not completely enough to activate the lock.

It gives me cause to consider something. Perhaps this is how McAllister's daughter became free of her bonds and exacted vengeance on the treacherous Delina? He did not release her but more likely her escorting guard had never locked them in the first place; allowing her to escape at will. But, who? Not Hapi. No, it had to be Cossack. It was him for sure. An idea of what must have happened forms in my mind's eye.

I can see Cossack being informed that the investigation is being headed by his commander's enemies in the Fifth Kingdom. He knows that if I am found derelict it will destroy not only mine but also the careers of all my crew, including his own. He saw an opportunity and he took it, there was no time to hesitate. He must have told McAllister's daughter about what would happen to her, in his own gruff manner. But I can't imagine what he said or did to engage her trust, except perhaps that she already knew him from being in his care onboard my ship? Who can say? He must have supplied the blade as well. His plan had worked perfectly. Delina is dead and the chances that protocol will be ignored again and another prejudiced Adjunct from the Fifth Kingdom being assigned are nil. And it seems my enemies are thwarted by their own deceit and deviance.

I can only surmise that he and his fellow left me in my bonds so that I would divine his role in the plot without any incriminating questions ever being asked or answered. Brilliant strategy. He is another whose talents are unrecognized and has proved to be under-promoted because of his status. That is something that I can remedy.

I notice my valet is still staring at me wide eyed as I fiddle bemusedly with the restraints. "Fool! What are you staring at?" I cuff him on the side of his head and he falls to his knees in submission. "Clean up this mess and do as I have told you!" I order and walk over to the living area where a decanter of saya has been filled. I pour myself a glass and stretch out on the couch and wait for my bath to be ready.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way. **

**Rites of Passage **

**Chapter 21**

Although my quarters are luxurious and I have access to a database of tens of thousands of holofilms social media applications, games, magazines, books and newsfeeds to keep myself entertained, my forced confinement is torture. It is ironic that during my command of the Rihan Annsu my workload would become so overwhelming that I would daydream of going on leave and do nothing but lay abed for days and watch the holo'. But now that it is the only option available to me; I am bored beyond belief! Perhaps if I were allowed access to a pleasure slave and some recreation this wouldn't be so intolerable. Or any company at all, aside from my valet, for that matter. But I have been denied even that. Yoi had attempted to visit and was turned away by the guard posted outside my door. No 'unauthorized visitors' they said.

Several of my juniors have been sending me holos and messages of their shipboard adventures, or misadventures more accurately, thinking that it might raise my spirits, but truthfully it just depresses me more to see them enjoying their leave while I am trapped in solitude. I haven't responded to any of them in several hours, instead I have been playing at _urru_. It is an interactive multi-player game but it has stopped being fun since I have been on a losing streak. I poke at an icon on the screen and cash out and roll my chair restlessly away from the desk. I decide to shower and dress for the day even if I won't be going anywhere. At least it's something to do.

As I exit the lavatory still towel drying my hair my valet alerts me that I have a call waiting on a priority encrypted channel. No doubt it is my father. I take a deep breath and steel myself for what is surely going to be a brutal chastisement for ignoring him for so long. I shrug into my robe and push my damp hair behind my ears and sit at the holo-screen and open the communication channel.

As the image appears on screen my heart drops into my stomach and I jump to me feet and brace to attention with my fist across my chest. It is not my father as I had expected, but Marshall Hazar himself! My mouth runs dry as feel a trickle of water from my wet unkempt hair drip down my neck. I'm suddenly conscious of the half-faded purple shadow that still rings under my left eye. And I realize how slovenly-how unlike an officer of the Supremacy- I must look. I wish the floor would open and swallow me whole.

"Sir!—I was—um, just finishing exercise…" I stammer the first lame excuse that pops into my head like the slacker I appear to be.

To my surprise he laughs. "At ease, Sincline. There is nothing official about this conversation. In fact, it would be best if it stayed off the record…completely." He has the voice of a war-fighter I notice; deep and gravelly from years of shouting orders over the noise of battle. In a strange way it reminds me of my father's.

At his order I automatically fall into parade rest. A weak, "Yes, sir," Is all I can manage to croak out as either sweat or water trickles icily down my spine.

"I'd like to congratulate you on your first kill. Quite a prize you bagged." Hazar says and leans back in his chair. He must be in his private residence because I can see in the background the enormous painting of a naked, reclining woman everyone talks about. Rumor has it that it is of his favorite concubine and he painted it himself. Or more accurately, I can see most of a painting of a naked woman because from my perspective all I can see is a headless torso with enormous breasts. It's comical in a way because from the angle of holo screen's camera, the Fleet Marshall's head appears to be resting between them. To my horror, as I am about to express my gratitude, I feel my lips starting to curl up in a smile and I press them together trying suppress my inappropriate, poorly timed mirth.

"Thank you, sir." I finally manage and force my self to look at the center stone of the medallion he wears around his neck. Common born, neither royal nor noble, it is his only emblem of estate; he received it when he earned the title _Dai'Ahkhusu_. Suddenly I am certain that it was Hazar's battalion that intercepted the Alliance vessels and gave my crew and I the chance to return home alive and victorious. Now I know to whom I am so indebted. This knowledge successfully quashes my disrespectful musings.

"I don't think I need to tell you that what you did put an end to any negotiations with the Alliance." He continues.

I open my mouth to speak but he waves a hand dismissively to stop me. "Ngh! Humans! They never honor their treaties anyway." He leans forward and shifts in his chair. "I'm glad this happened. I needed an opportunity to convince the council to reconsider negotiating Supremacy Territory away to these…barbarian interlopers." He explains.

"Yes, sir." I agree because I don't know what else to say.

"Sincline, your contract is nearly up, isn't it?" He pauses for me to answer.

"Yes, sir. I have fourteen months left, sir."

"Are you planning on renewing?" He asks and rubs his knuckle across his chin.

The question takes me by surprise. I still have no idea what my status is because the Highlander's inquest has been delayed. "I don't know how to answer that, sir. Things are a little uncertain for me." I say.

"Ah, well let me put your mind at ease, Commander. There may be some minor reprimands, for procedural violations- that sort of thing. We have to _veah'rai 'yi_…aside from the one you managed to get yourself." He smiles and shakes his head a little. "Otherwise we'll have _hnafir'rau _attacking every ship they see. But…I can personally assure you that you may—" he pauses for a moment as if contemplating what to say, "-put your mind at ease about any possible criminal charges. There will be no more Fifth Kingdom set ups from now on." He casually explains then looks at me thoughtfully, steepling his fingers under his chin.

I feel like a bucket of water has been dumped over me! I was right! Someone was trying to frame me! As high up as the Council! Someone has taken the Fifth Kingdom's side over ours for whatever purpose. And now I know that Hazar himself has taken up the Ninth Kingdom's cause. There is far more involved in this than I am privileged to know. But what I am sure of is that there is a power struggle going on within the Council itself, and now I and the Ninth Kingdom are being dragged into it.

"One more thing, you can forget about command of another ship. You've made too many people nervous in the Fourth Fleet. I hope you like paperwork, because you're going to be commanding a desk from now on." He explains.

"Yes, sir. Understood, sir." I feel my heart drop. I can't imagine a more inglorious end to my career. But to my surprise he continues.

"Unless of course you request a transfer-to the Seventh Fleet." He suggests. "I think there's room there for an ambitious officer like yourself, not afraid to take bold and decisive actions."

I am stunned and for several seconds I can't think of what to say. The Seventh Fleet is under Hazar's command. He has offered me a chance to serve under him and to lead once more! But I have obligations. "Sir, I am expected to return to Korrinoth at the end of my contract and serve my father in my place as heir apparent." The words are like ashes in my mouth.

"I expected as much; you have some time to make your decision. But between now and then, Sincline, if I were you, I'd figure out which one of the Trinity has blessed you with this victory and honor Her. " He says and looks off screen at something that makes him smile. "Think carefully about what I've told you." He says and cuts the link abruptly.

I stand there for several minutes staring at the outline of the holo before turning it off. I'm still trying to process the information I have been given and then I start to laugh. Heartily. I don't know if it's the knowledge that I, and the Ninth Kingdom, am off the hook or the preposterousness of the image of Hazar's head smashed between those enormous breasts is impossible to ignore, but I am still laughing when my valet comes back in with a pot of _ullan_ and my clothes from the laundry. The look he gives me causes my laughter to abate somewhat.

"Good news, Sir?" He asks.

His question gives me pause. "I have no idea." I answer.

It is now after dinner and I'm still deeply distracted about my secret conference with Hazar. My initial relief is gone and has been replaced by the question of who one the council has sided against us. The why is no question. It has everything to do with the disputed territories between the Fifth and the Ninth. Someone has decided that it would be best the Fifth Kingdom depose my father and acquire all of the Ninth Kingdom's territory. Surely it means that the Fifth Kingdom is preparing for war with us. A war they believe they can win along with their secret allies.

If their little ruse had worked and had I found myself in a military prison it would have created more than an unstable line of succession for my father. It would have called into question the legitimacy of his sovereignty. My father is, like Hazar, _Dai'Ahkhusu, _And commonborn as well. He is also usurper. He murdered his own king, Vosta, and took the throne of Korrinoth –if it could have been called that- for himself. It was an unprecedented act. Certainly, _Dai'Ahkhusu_ have been conquering worlds for centuries, but until my father, the _Diazaba'al_, none had ever come for a sitting monarch. That it was his own king, whom he swore a blood oath to serve, made it that much more audacious.

There were many that thought that the entire Empire should rise up and teach my father a lesson; take from him his bloody throne and make an example out of him. But in those days, under Vosta, and his father before him, long before I was born, Korrinoth was a slum. A third class planet on the edge of the Khrym'syn Quadrant; barely acknowledged as a Kingdom by the Empire. And because of that, the decision was made to let my father fail on his own. Fortunately, for the both Empire and the Ninth Kingdom, that didn't happen. Over the years, my father built Korrinoth into the Ninth Kingdom; a stalwart force to protect the Empire from the encroaching humans as well as one to be reckoned with therein.

It is not the first time the Fifth has tried to take my father's throne by treachery. And it will not be the last. I have no hope, out here in the middle of deep space, of figuring out all the players in this game of thrones. But I am content in the knowledge that their plots have been exposed, and that is all the edge we need. I must relay what I have learned to my father. It has been far too long that I have been at port and I haven't made contact with him. He is bound to be furious with me, but I can avoid it no longer. I summon my valet to log onto the communication servers and make a formal request for an encrypted channel under my royal title.

Before he leaves he calls my attention to some items he has left on the desk. One is a small package shipped from the Ai'ghur Quadrant. It piques my curiosity because it is very unusual to get a piece of physical mail while in deep space. But I disregard it for the moment because the other, to my utter delight, is McAllister's officer's sword which she presented to me when she surrendered the Highlander. My valet wants to know what I would like done with it.

I pick it up and examine the scabbard. It is black shiny enamel with gold etching and an ornate end cap. I draw the blade to get a better look at the cross guard. It is fine workmanship. Very fine indeed. I see that there is a sigil engraved and enameled in great detail. It looks like a rearing favi facing a clawed beast with red and blue quartered emblem in the center. There is a great deal of fine detail work in gold and colored enamel and it is also pave set with gemstones. A high quality officer's port epée is attached to the hilt as well, in complimenting colors of dark blue leather and red stitching. But the workmanship does not end there. I can see that the blade is old, hand forged steel; a gorgeous blue grey with wood grain-like water marks wrapping around it in a repeating pattern. Twin fullers run down its length and there is a gilded panel affixed on either side. On one side of the panel, in gold leaf, Terran letters read _"Audentes Fortuna Iuuat"_ and the other _"W&SolgensonCo"_ also in gold.

I set the sword down and cue up a new page on my holoscreen and enter the inscriptions in the translator. For one there is no translation, but meaning of the other gives me pause. "Fortune favors the bold" it reads. I shiver and I can't help thinking that perhaps Hazar is right, I have been blessed by One of the Trinity and I should make an offering to them as soon as possible.

I would like to replace my Supremacy dress sword with it, as I won this one in battle and it carries a high prestige, but it is too small for me. But it is certainly beautiful enough for display. I decide to have it mounted on onat wood with a plaque engraved with the name of the Highlander, the infamous name of her captain, and the date of her capture and defeat. As first kills go, I could not have picked a better one if I was offered a choice.

My valet alerts me that a channel has been opened and my father is being located. I pull up my chair and sit in front of my desk and get comfortable. No doubt my father will keep me waiting as a punishment for taking so long to reply to him. But this day is full of surprises! I am barely settled before the chime indicates an image is loading.

"Lotor! My beloved son! How nice to hear from you! I didn't know if you would be allowed to call me from jail." Zarkon, my father exclaims sarcastically. He is sitting at his desk with one leg crossed over the other. It must be early morning in Korrinoth because he is dressed in a plain, white tunic that he usually wears when he is puttering around in his garden and his hair is loose, not skinned back in the tight cue that he keeps it in when holding court.

"Good morning, father." I greet him. "I am not in jail, merely confined to quarters."

"Oh, well…that's good to know. How did you manage that? Supremacy regulations have changed since quite a bit, then. In my day if you defied the orders of your superiors, broke a cease fire and almost got yourself and your crew killed over a cargo vessel you'd have gotten your head removed from your shoulders." He says continuing with his typical sarcasm.

"Well, I guess things have changed. And the Highlander wasn't a cargo vessel! She was a warship!" I say, unable to keep the plaintive and defensive edge out of my voice. "The Alliance was violating the terms of—"

"That's not what I heard." He interrupts me. "I heard she was a cargo vessel on a transport mission with bad jump drive."

I'm silent for a moment, wondering where he could have gotten that information. It was my understanding that no details from Highlander had been released to anyone. At all. It was merely being referred to, even among the intelligence community, as an 'an incident.'

Finally I say, "Well, you got bad information. I can't go into detail, but the Highlander was not just a cargo vessel-" I pause mid-sentance; stopping myself before I say too much. "Did you get the message I sent? About the weather?" I ask pointedly, using our established 'code word' to indicate that there is something encrypted within the standard reply I sent him before coming aboard the Khans Khiori. Although I specifically requested a private channel, I know better than to think that it is actually so. My father and I have worked out a method of talking around the edges of things to pass information back and forth to each other.

"No. I did not." He answers and I see his eyes narrow thoughtfully. I know my father well enough that he is evaluating something. I'm sure it is that he has a spy on my ship and that spy has not performed adequately. From what my father has told me he knows about the Highlander I suspect that it is my first officer, a fellow Korronite. I put the man aboard the Highlander and he was not around for the revelations that Yoi and I discovered. I'm glad. I think back to the many months he has been under my command and wonder what he has been reporting back to my father about me.

"Curious. Perhaps your secretary still has yet to open it. Speaking of curiosities—during my confinement I watched a holo about ships can travel through space-time without using jump ports." I say cryptically.

"Oh?" He asks uncrossing his legs and sitting forward. "Sounds like nonsense."

"It probably is. Especially since, as the story goes, a human scientist from Altea, of all places, developed it." I say and he scowls, then rubs his chin thoughtfully with his finger and nods slightly.

"Lotor, it's bad enough that you're wasting your own time watching such fantasy nonsense, don't waste my time by telling me about it!" He scolds, but I can see by his expression that he understands what I am trying to do. "I have enough real problems with the Altean's already." He growls. I'm unsure of what he means exactly, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. I surmise it has something to do with the Lith family—a second son of Fifth Kingdom's minor nobility married into the Altean court. I suppose they continue to support the Fifth Kingdom's agendas there, which is in direct conflict with Altea's treaties with us. I had thought the matter settled before this tour of duty began when my father began serious negotiations for my marriage. I hope for the Altean's sake they are not playing both sides and making my father look a fool in the process.

"Apologies, father. I do have something important to tell you, however. During the taking of the Highlander two of my crew, subjects of the Ninth Kingdom, displayed outstanding dedication to both myself, the Ninth Kingdom and their duty." I say. My father remains quiet so I continue. "They should receive honors. I've already sent you an account about Si'lia. He saved my life. He was serving to repay his family's tenure obligation. And the other is Naro Yoi-"

"Ah, the traitor's nephew?" He interrupts.

"Father, I thought the Yoi family provided you critical aid when…" I pause, trying to find the right way to phrase my half-brother's attempted coup and patricide. It is a delicate subject that my father does not like to discuss.

"Yes, yes they did. But, my son let me tell you this-and remember it well. Treason runs deeper than blood; it's in the bone. Once a traitor; always a traitor. Keep them close, and their children closer." He lectures.

"Yes, father." I agree, knowing that argument is closed. If Yoi is going to get any reward for helping his Prince is will have to be from me. "But, the Si'lia family—"

"Yes, yes…of course. Send on whatever you want done for them to my secretary." He says dismissively. He has been distracted ever since I bought up Altea. "So, any word on your disposition?" He changes the subject.

I shake my head. "Nothing formal. The inquest has been delayed since the lead investigator died in an accident." I explain.

"What? I don't like this. This is taking too long." He says and rubs his forehead.

"It's for the best, father. The lead investigator was from the Fifth Kingdom. He was killed interrogating one of the prisoners."

"Fuck!" He curses loudly, "Lotor, you idiot boy! What the hell have you gotten yourself into?"

"Father!" It's my turn to interrupt him this time. "It's handled."

"What do you mean it's handled?" He demands.

I hesitate, unsure of how much of Hazar's conversation I can reveal safely. "I have been assured that no criminal charges will be filed. But I am going to be relieved of command in the Fourth Fleet for the rest of me contract."

"Relieved of Command? After your first tour?" My father hangs his head and shakes it slowly back and forth. "That's your idea of 'handled?' Wonderful."

"Father, that is not all." I continue and he raises his head and glares at me expectantly. "I have received a personal invitation to transfer to the Seventh Fleet, with no reduction in rank and the opportunity for advancement." I explain enthusiastically.

"Really? And who told you this?" He asks skeptically.

"Marshall Hazar. Himself." I declare.

"Oh?" He says and I see a change in his expression. It melts from contempt to curiosity to something else, something I have never seen. It takes me by surprise…I don't believe it, but it looks a great deal like jealousy. He opens his mouth as if to thinking of something to say, then closes it. Finally, I have done something that he can't criticize. "I suppose you told him 'yes'?" He says at last.

I pause for a moment, "No, I told him that I'm expected to return home. To honor my duties to you."

"Good. Because I don't need you chasing glory and causing more problems for me." He says spitefully.

I look down trying to hide my disappointment and spy my trophy sword on my desk with its gold engraving along the blade and I recall the feeling of my victory and Hazar's praise. "Father, Hazar said I demonstrated bold and decisive leadership. He thinks I have a future-" I press.

"Eh? He said all that? Hmpft, well, don't let go to your head. You just got lucky. And don't get any big ideas about transferring and extending your contract—"

"But Father—"

"Exactly, I'm your father, and as your father I'm telling you, you are coming home at the end of your contract."

I open my mouth to say something but he continues. "Not another word. I have enough to worry about with Alteans, the Fifth Kingdom…and now the Supremacy. As well as trying to make sure the Ninth Kingdom can survive your rule."

"Yes, Father." I reply despondently. At least he didn't threaten to throw me into the Pit of Skulls when I got home. I almost wish he would.

"Oh, and happy birthday. Check your account." He adds.

"Thank you, father." I respond blandly and he cuts the communication.

My disappointment is palpable. I was hoping he would praise my victory and encourage me to renew my contract. But I see now that he won't. He wants me back at Korrinoth so that he can hold me under his thumb! He is threatened by Hazar's interest and wants to keep me in my place. Beneath him. I should have expected this. Khiori forbid I should have any success to rival the Great_ Diazba'al!_

I am however , somewhat surprised that he remembered my birthday. I log on to check my bank account to see what gift has been deposited. My eyes open wide. It spite of the standard holiday greeting it is quite generous. Ten million credits along with the property rights, titles and incomes from several estates on Korrinoth and Tyrus. I am now the Duke of Ai' on Tyrus, Duke of Nergat on Korrinoth, across the bay from Galra Castle among other lesser titles. Sometimes my father makes no sense at all. It is my thirtieth birthday and he gifts me so much wealth yet still treats me like a child. No doubt he still thinks he can control my decisions by threatening to take away the noble titles and their incomes.

An idea occurs to me. I am a man grown and under the law I am no longer subject to the bonds of _Yata Shai'a._ He ordered me home as my father, not as my king. I am not subject to his authority any longer. If I choose to renew my contract there is nothing he can do about it. Not until it is up, then he may invoke his authority as my King and order me to resign. But not before. To do so would mean that he would require me to break my word and behave as a coward and a criminal. I smile to myself, for once the old man is not going to get the best of me.

However, if I do this thing, declare myself independent from his custody then he is no longer obligated to see to my welfare. He cannot unnamed his son and heir, but will certainly revoke the lesser titles and incomes. Leaving me to scratch out a living on what money I have managed to save from my allowance and his cash gift. Clearly, buying the Veyhron will have to wait. Is my independence worth this great a cost?

I narrow my eyes as I think. I also have the income from my share of the Highlander…and any other booty I may seize in battle. I smile as I remember what Quarq's crony had let slip at dinner. I will have quite a fortune coming to me if I don't 'end up in_ Ghalai_.' Which it looks like I won't. _No, father, you can keep your petty lordships and titles!_ I think smiling smugly. _I'm off to seek fortune and glory! I will create a legacy of conquest that will rival your own! _

As I sit at my desk feeling victorious I notice the package that my valet had called to my attention along with McAllister's sword. It is a small plastic self sealing envelope that has an Altean postage seal. I turn it over in my hand and press on it trying to discern the contents, they are pliable and I feel no hard edges or lumps, only a firmness in the center. What they could be I have no idea. I pull the strip that opens it and dump out the contents. I frown as I see it is a folded scrap of black silk with a tangle of loose red thread attached to it. As I shake it, it opens and a decorative holo-card clatters onto my desk. No doubt a greeting from the sender.

I pick up the card and activate the message. To my complete and utter surprise the image on the holo message introduces itself as the child princess of Altea wishing me a happy birthday and a safe passage where ever I am. I suppose she is the one my father had thought to have betrothed to me. From the stilted way she's speaking I can tell that she's probably written down what she wants to say and rehearsed and re-recorded this a dozen times.

I unfold the swatch of silk in my hands and grimace. It's a handkerchief of sorts, sloppily embroidered with a large 'L' and 'A' intertwined in red and outlined in gold, along with some abstract designs around the boarder that may or may not be flowers. Or insects. As birthday presents go I've certainly received finer. But just as I'm about to stuff it back in it's package and throw it away I glance back at the holoscreen on my computer to the standard holiday greeting from my father's secretary and his impersonal, manipulative gift of money directly deposited into my account. The little princess' gift is the total opposite in all ways. Although hideous and worthless, she must have done this herself and it must have taken her considerable time and effort. I smile a little as I rub the fabric between my thumb and forefinger. It is actually a very sweet and thoughtful gift.

I look back at her chubby cheeked face, blonde hair and bright blue eyes paused in frame at the end of her recorded message. She may very well grow up to be quite pretty- that is, if she doesn't run to fat like her mother. It is really too bad about the rapidly deteriorating situation between our two Kingdoms.

I hear the door chime and after a moment my valet informs that I have a visitor. It seems that the Trinity is indeed smiling on me and the worst of this endeavor is over. Erie, Quarq's niece, has come to comfort me in my enforced solitude. I toss the Altean princess' gift into a desk drawer and go to make welcome my lovely guest.

***The End***

**Glossary:**

**veah'rai 'yi:**_ (phrase) lit. trans. Get/give a black eye. A colloquial description for getting a mild punishment mostly for public appeasement. _

**Urru:**_ a game of chance similar to craps. Uses eight sided dice with both numbers and symbols. _

**Yata Shai'a**_: no translation. Similar to the ancient Roman custom of Pater Familias. The final rite of passage marking the change from childhood to adulthood in which a Drule male is considered completely independent from the authority of either parent. It is usually thirty years old and marked by a ritual cutting of bonds and a large celebration. However in ancient times it was celebrated with a young warrior's first victorious battle. _


	22. Epilogue

**Rite of Passage**

**Epilogue**

It has been twelve years since my first taste of conquest. I have had others, many others since the Highlander laid her self open to me. But I have never forgotten her. Oh no, not her. Not my first! She taught me so much; gave me so much. Without her I would have never become who I am today. My victory over her opened a path, blessed by The Trinity, into Hazar's fleet. And under his watchful eye and mentoring I rose in rank and my fame and reputation grew. Until, I, like my father, could claim the rank of general and the status of_ Dai'Ahkhusu_. Finally the time had come when I could return to Korrinoth; now that I was the equal of the great Diazaba'al. Only then could I go home and kneel at my father's feet out of respect and not fear.

And tonight I command Korrinoth's forces for the first time. My armada approaches Altea. I can see her clearly with my naked eye from my observation terrace. A luminous blue green paradise floating in the void. She looks so lovely, so peaceful and full of promise as she rotates into a new dawn. No evidence of the damage my father's fleet did to her a decade ago can be seen. She seems languid, alone and defenseless. But she is not as she appears. Like the Highlander she also holds a devastating secret. A war machine so advanced that has defied the attempts of that fool General Yurak and our captive Wyvern scientist, Ha'gar. A most incongruous weapon that strangely reminds me of a child's toy. They call it Voltron, Defender of the Universe, a title which forever raises the bar on humanity's hyperbole. Five robot lions that merge to form a super-mecha that cannot seemingly be defeated. Until now that I have arrived. I have studied Yurak's mistakes and analyzed the weaknesses of the Wyvern's creations. Just as I have studied the strategies of Kogane, the Commander of the Voltron Force. I will defeat Voltron and Altea will fall once more. Not to become the smoldering ruin my father made of her as punishment for her faithlessness. No, she will succumb to me, become mine to rule. Under my governance she will grow stronger than she ever was and increase the power and glory of the Ninth Kingdom.

Altea grows ever larger I continue to approach with my fleet. I feel my breath come faster and my excitement builds. I am reminded of that time long ago on the catwalk waiting to board the Highlander when I felt this same way; breathless with anticipation. I have learned so much since then. Restraint especially. But as I look at the glowing blue orb, so beautiful, majestic and full of promise I can hardly quell my impatience. There is something drawing me in, calling to me, demanding I come here. I can't explain the emotion; it has been a rare and fleeting thing in the past, but never to be ignored. It has the same urgency as when I first spied the Highlander adrift so long ago. And now, just as then, I can't explain how I know this, but I am absolutely certain that something, other than the mecha Voltron, somewhere on Altea is the key to my destiny.


End file.
